A LIFETIME APPRENTICESHIP: 15 Days on Denali's West Buttress
Denali's Upper Reaches are clearly visible through the Northeast Fork of the Kahiltna/Valley of Death
Mt McKinley (20,320ft)
May 4th-May 19th, 2013
Climbing Team: Peter, Sarah, Liam, Matt
West Buttress Attempt - Highpoint 18,000ft
Route:
- Day 1: Arrive in Talkeetna, Attend NPS Orientation, Fly onto Glacier (7200ft)
- Day 2: Move to Camp 1 (7800ft)
- Day 3: Move to Camp 2 (11,200ft)
- Day 4: Carry around Windy Corner and Cache at 13,500ft, Return to Camp 2 (11,200ft)
- Day 5: Move to Camp 3 (14,200ft)
- Day 6: Peter and Matt retrive Cache at 13,500ft and bring it to Camp 3 (14,200ft)
- Day 7: Acclimate to 16,200' above Headwall on ridge, return to Camp 3 (14,200ft)
- Day 8: Full Rest Day
- Day 9: Liam and Matt attempt summit from 14 Camp - High point of 18,000ft
- Day 10: Rest/Strategy Day - Camp 3 (14,200ft)
- Day 11: Full team depart Camp 3 @ 6am attempting to take advantage of a small "weather window" and summit - Turn back at 17,200 due to cold
- Day 12: Out of Time; Hike to the "Edge of the World." Descend to Camp 2 (11,200ft)
- Day 13: Tent Bound at Camp 2 (11,200ft)
- Day 14: Descend through a storm to Camp 1 (7,800ft)
- Day 15: Return to basecamp (7,200ft), Fly back to Talkeetna
I am not sure that either of us quite understood what we were up against at the start, not the climb itself, but the daunting task of organizing a team and the logistics. From the moment the word, "Denali," left Peter's mouth, I knew that we were going to make choices that would likely impart to the overall difficulty, as well as, greatly limit our chances of summiting. Choices designed to enhance our experience. To me, that didn't matter. I chase a specific experience more than a point in the sky.
Our initial plan was thoroughly unrealistic and we quickly recruited Sarah, who added some realism and an additional skill set. The three of us decided on a two week trip, calling ourselves "Two Weeks Off" on the mountain. We planned to go very early in the season: The first 2 weeks of May. In the end, these choices did give us many of the things we were looking for, such as the mountain was a lot less crowded – but we didn’t get a weather window for the summit, partly due to unseasonably cold temperatures and high winds. Finally, Peter reached out to Liam, an Australian climber that he had shared a tent with on their Fall 2011 climb of Ama Dablam, to invite him to be our 4th. He instantly accepted and agreed to spend a couple of weeks in Colorado beforehand to prepare as a team. This would turn out to be very valuable during the days leading up to the trip.
Going in May is always colder, but offers a more stable glacier, and some have speculated, more stable weather. For us, this would not turn out to be true. While we felt quite safe on the glaciers, we routinely experienced forecasted High's of -5 and lows of -20 or worse at 14,000ft. When getting ready to make an attempt on the summit at one point we left 14 camp when it was -30 Degrees Fahrenheit The upper mountain was far worse and winds of 30 miles an hour could be disastrous Unfortunately, of the week or so our team spent at 14 camp, most days called for winds much higher than that. Never getting a long enough window to move up to the High Camp, both summit attempts were made from 14,000ft, and both were foiled due to weather somewhere above 17 Camp.
With commitments back home, Sarah, Peter and I left on Wednesday May 15th, while Liam, having traveled a very long way and not bound by time constraints, stayed, teaming up with another Australian climber, and they successfully made the summit. The rest of us flew out on the 19th, having taken 4 days to get down due to a storm.
Our initial plan was thoroughly unrealistic and we quickly recruited Sarah, who added some realism and an additional skill set. The three of us decided on a two week trip, calling ourselves "Two Weeks Off" on the mountain. We planned to go very early in the season: The first 2 weeks of May. In the end, these choices did give us many of the things we were looking for, such as the mountain was a lot less crowded – but we didn’t get a weather window for the summit, partly due to unseasonably cold temperatures and high winds. Finally, Peter reached out to Liam, an Australian climber that he had shared a tent with on their Fall 2011 climb of Ama Dablam, to invite him to be our 4th. He instantly accepted and agreed to spend a couple of weeks in Colorado beforehand to prepare as a team. This would turn out to be very valuable during the days leading up to the trip.
Going in May is always colder, but offers a more stable glacier, and some have speculated, more stable weather. For us, this would not turn out to be true. While we felt quite safe on the glaciers, we routinely experienced forecasted High's of -5 and lows of -20 or worse at 14,000ft. When getting ready to make an attempt on the summit at one point we left 14 camp when it was -30 Degrees Fahrenheit The upper mountain was far worse and winds of 30 miles an hour could be disastrous Unfortunately, of the week or so our team spent at 14 camp, most days called for winds much higher than that. Never getting a long enough window to move up to the High Camp, both summit attempts were made from 14,000ft, and both were foiled due to weather somewhere above 17 Camp.
With commitments back home, Sarah, Peter and I left on Wednesday May 15th, while Liam, having traveled a very long way and not bound by time constraints, stayed, teaming up with another Australian climber, and they successfully made the summit. The rest of us flew out on the 19th, having taken 4 days to get down due to a storm.
Some Thoughts from Peter...
Matt, Liam & Peter enjoy the sun at 14 Camp
To summarize, we planned a two week trip to Denali, to climb the West Buttress, starting on May 4th. We moved quickly on the lower mountain, but were held back by the weather, higher up. We waited for days at the 14000 foot camp, as a sustained low pressure weather system came in and brought cold temperatures and high winds to the upper mountain. Forecasted high temperatures were -25 at 17000 feet (the implied high at the summit would be nearly -40). Forecasted winds were 50 to 60 mph most days, dropping to 30 mph on good days. We made two summit attempts, but none of the team made it higher than Denali pass (18000 feet), before conditions turned us around. Three of us descended, to catch flights and get home on time, while our 4th team member stayed for a week to wait for better conditions. A high pressure system moved in, the temperature got 30 degrees warmer, the wind dropped, and he summitted successfully.
From the start of the trip, we made two obvious choices that made it harder to succeed -- we went for less time than the average group does, and we went earlier in the season than most people do. There's a few reasons behind these choices. I can't say my logic was right, but I can tell you what I was thinking.
From the start of the trip, we made two obvious choices that made it harder to succeed -- we went for less time than the average group does, and we went earlier in the season than most people do. There's a few reasons behind these choices. I can't say my logic was right, but I can tell you what I was thinking.
The first, most practical reason, is that it's hard for me to get time off work. I want to climb a lot of mountains in my life, Denali is just one step along the journey. It's frustrating to wait a years between expeditions, so I figured that if I could pull off this trip quickly, I wouldn't have to wait as long until the next one.
The second, more romantic reason, is just the way I like to have adventures. An adventure, for me, is a step into the unknown. Going for a hike with the certainty of success is not an adventure. As I have more experiences, and gain more skills, it takes a bigger challenge to give the same sense of uncertainty and excitement -- I need to move faster, or go to a higher altitude, or do a more technical route. Mind you, I'm a slow hiker and a mediocre climber compared to lots of people out there.
But, I keep getting better, and the thing I like most about climbing is picking a challenge that initially seems impossible and working at it until it becomes doable, even inevitable. Matt has a similar attitude. He's pushed his limits a lot in the time I've known him, and always seems to want a new, bigger challenge.
Anyways, Matt and I thought that a 3 week trip up the West Buttress sounded too straightforward. We talked about trying a harder route up the mountain, but we didn't have a lot of free time, and I was afraid I couldn't keep my hands warm on a technical climb. So, we talked about trying to climb the mountain more quickly. We started by considering a 9 day trip. I know that sounds crazy. I'm sure that it's possible to move that fast, but it would be a crapshoot, based on the weather. It was hard to say if it was even worth trying. Matt invited Sarah to join the trip, she has a smaller ego and a much more conservative attitude, so we all compromised on a 2 week attempt. I later invited my friend Liam to join us.
So, in short, we felt we could shave time off the usual 3 weeks, because we could acclimate faster and carry faster. We could skip things like crevasse rescue practice on the mountain, and we felt we were strong enough to not need many rest days. We were correct about most of that. We didn't end up moving the same day we landed (we got on the glacier at 8 PM). The route from 11 to 14 was harder than I expected, and we decided to double carry up this section. Otherwise, we still got to 14 camp fairly quickly.
We expected we'd have bad weather days, but we didn't expect to have such prolonged bad conditions. The low pressure system came in on day 8 and persisted until day 17. As far as I know, only 2 climbers summitted during this period, during the brief weather break on day 9 (they had a private meteorologist giving them forecasts, via satellite phone). The next summit I'm aware of was a group that moved up on day 12, weathered out a long storm at the 17000 foot camp, then summitted on day 17.
Even though most guided groups spend more days on the mountain than we did, they don't have a lot more days available for summit attempts, since they take longer to get to 14000 feet. Liam had to wait at 14 camp for 12 days before he could move up to 17 camp. Most guided trips would have run out of time, under those circumstances.
The second, more romantic reason, is just the way I like to have adventures. An adventure, for me, is a step into the unknown. Going for a hike with the certainty of success is not an adventure. As I have more experiences, and gain more skills, it takes a bigger challenge to give the same sense of uncertainty and excitement -- I need to move faster, or go to a higher altitude, or do a more technical route. Mind you, I'm a slow hiker and a mediocre climber compared to lots of people out there.
But, I keep getting better, and the thing I like most about climbing is picking a challenge that initially seems impossible and working at it until it becomes doable, even inevitable. Matt has a similar attitude. He's pushed his limits a lot in the time I've known him, and always seems to want a new, bigger challenge.
Anyways, Matt and I thought that a 3 week trip up the West Buttress sounded too straightforward. We talked about trying a harder route up the mountain, but we didn't have a lot of free time, and I was afraid I couldn't keep my hands warm on a technical climb. So, we talked about trying to climb the mountain more quickly. We started by considering a 9 day trip. I know that sounds crazy. I'm sure that it's possible to move that fast, but it would be a crapshoot, based on the weather. It was hard to say if it was even worth trying. Matt invited Sarah to join the trip, she has a smaller ego and a much more conservative attitude, so we all compromised on a 2 week attempt. I later invited my friend Liam to join us.
So, in short, we felt we could shave time off the usual 3 weeks, because we could acclimate faster and carry faster. We could skip things like crevasse rescue practice on the mountain, and we felt we were strong enough to not need many rest days. We were correct about most of that. We didn't end up moving the same day we landed (we got on the glacier at 8 PM). The route from 11 to 14 was harder than I expected, and we decided to double carry up this section. Otherwise, we still got to 14 camp fairly quickly.
We expected we'd have bad weather days, but we didn't expect to have such prolonged bad conditions. The low pressure system came in on day 8 and persisted until day 17. As far as I know, only 2 climbers summitted during this period, during the brief weather break on day 9 (they had a private meteorologist giving them forecasts, via satellite phone). The next summit I'm aware of was a group that moved up on day 12, weathered out a long storm at the 17000 foot camp, then summitted on day 17.
Even though most guided groups spend more days on the mountain than we did, they don't have a lot more days available for summit attempts, since they take longer to get to 14000 feet. Liam had to wait at 14 camp for 12 days before he could move up to 17 camp. Most guided trips would have run out of time, under those circumstances.
Day 1: Reckoner
On Friday May 3rd, we flew to Anchorage and spent the night at a hotel. Early, the next morning, we were picked up by the Shuttle (Go Purple Shuttle, they rock) and made a final grocery stop. The NPS did their thing and we had a big breakfast at The Roadhouse. Walking back to the Sheldon Air Service (definitely plan on using them again) was an enjoyable experience. Talkeetna is, as said, “A quaint little drinking town with a climbing problem.” There is a surprising amount going on there. |
Though the weather on the drive in filled us with doubts, the skies cleared enough to give us an incredible first view of the three giants (Denali, Foraker, Hunter) on the highway just outside of town. By the time we got back from the NPS Orientation other groups that had been waiting for days, were gearing up to fly out. We got the news we wanted, they planned on flying us onto the glacier later that evening. It was hours away, but it gave us time to pack and weigh our gear without feeling rushed. It was nearly 6pm when they told 2 of us to start getting ready. Sarah and I were going to fly in first and get started on a base camp. Liam and Peter would follow.
The flight in was worth the price of admission. Wow. Towering peaks completely engulfed in snow and ice all around. The glaciers were clearly very active and the mountains were rugged and unforgiving. The 3 main peaks of the Alaskan Range would help to keep us oriented throughout our climb. The flight was all of 35 minutes and a surprisingly gentle landing put us at 7200’ – 13 miles and 13,120 feet or vertical gain away from the summit.
We got situated and began expanding an existing camp site. Peter and Liam didn’t land until after 8:30pm and it was starting to “get dark,” or as I came to say, the shadow was coming. Different camps have different periods of sun, and the temperature drops very quickly once it disappears. We got our tents up and got into our sleeping bags, preparing for what promised to be a very cold night.
The flight in was worth the price of admission. Wow. Towering peaks completely engulfed in snow and ice all around. The glaciers were clearly very active and the mountains were rugged and unforgiving. The 3 main peaks of the Alaskan Range would help to keep us oriented throughout our climb. The flight was all of 35 minutes and a surprisingly gentle landing put us at 7200’ – 13 miles and 13,120 feet or vertical gain away from the summit.
We got situated and began expanding an existing camp site. Peter and Liam didn’t land until after 8:30pm and it was starting to “get dark,” or as I came to say, the shadow was coming. Different camps have different periods of sun, and the temperature drops very quickly once it disappears. We got our tents up and got into our sleeping bags, preparing for what promised to be a very cold night.
Day 2: A Beginning With Doubt
Our first morning was not a very promising one. Some team members had spent the night quite cold and we were only at base camp. Peter’s pad was having issues and I burned a dozen holes in one of my liner gloves. At one point I said I hoped no one was planning on getting back on the plane. It took us a bit, but we eventually got all our stuff together and got onto the rope team. It only took 5 hours.
The original plan had been to move to Camp 1 on the first day, but with our late arrival we had decided against it. The next plan was to try and make up the time by going first to Camp 1, and then Camp 2. That probably would have happened if we hadn’t gotten started after lunch. There was an option of camping at the 9,600’ Camp but high winds often make this a miserable place. |
The initial route out of base camp descends 500 feet down Heartbreak Hill and it was a welcome way to ease into the heavy loads. Throughout the trip the sleds would be referred to as the old ball and chain and avoided whenever possible. Though when initially moving out of base camp four climbers means 4 sleds. I led, then Sarah, Liam and, with the worst position (no tail roper), Peter. Early in the season the crevasses are mostly filled up. The entire trip was far easier and safer than expected as far as glacier travel goes and the 5.5 mile trip from base camp to Camp 1 went by without an uneasiness.
Even downhill, I could tell that pulling 130lbs (yea – guess we didn’t wind up going very light) was going to be painful and monotonous. Luckily the views all around are captivating. Foraker is on the left and the main fork of the Kahiltna continues to the right around Mt. Frances. There was a track in place and it was well wanded. The sun and heat were the biggest issue. I was determined from Day 1 to take care of myself and not get burned, which for the most part worked. I learned my lesson last year on Rainier.
It took us about 3.5 hours to get to Camp 1 and it was late in the day. After an extended break and discussion, we headed into the Camp and settled in for the night. Camp 2 is at the base of Ski Hill and where the Northeast Fork is accessed (West Rib, Cassin, among others). It also has the earliest shadow of the camps, at least in May. Dinner was pretty tasty and we all wondered how we’d feel during the night. I was a little anxious. I wanted everyone to be enjoying themselves, thus keeping a positive attitude.
Even downhill, I could tell that pulling 130lbs (yea – guess we didn’t wind up going very light) was going to be painful and monotonous. Luckily the views all around are captivating. Foraker is on the left and the main fork of the Kahiltna continues to the right around Mt. Frances. There was a track in place and it was well wanded. The sun and heat were the biggest issue. I was determined from Day 1 to take care of myself and not get burned, which for the most part worked. I learned my lesson last year on Rainier.
It took us about 3.5 hours to get to Camp 1 and it was late in the day. After an extended break and discussion, we headed into the Camp and settled in for the night. Camp 2 is at the base of Ski Hill and where the Northeast Fork is accessed (West Rib, Cassin, among others). It also has the earliest shadow of the camps, at least in May. Dinner was pretty tasty and we all wondered how we’d feel during the night. I was a little anxious. I wanted everyone to be enjoying themselves, thus keeping a positive attitude.
Day 3: Moving On Up
Everyone woke up well rested and in good spirits. I think that maybe by the third day you are starting to settle in. Life is very different, very, very different; simple, but complicated. Melting water is a never ending task. This time it only took us 4 hours to get ready. We improved, ha. Clearly something we needed to work on. The plan was clear. Single carry to the Camp at 11,200’. The first obstacle is Ski Hill, which is much larger than it looks. In general it is difficult to gauge size on a mountain this big.
We were very fast on the initial hill going roughly 1,000 feet in an hour. This was a little too fast for the team, and I tried to adjust my pace. Pacing was a struggle for me the entire trip, but I enjoyed the challenge of leading. |
We rested above Ski Hill and took in the views. We got a distinct feeling of moving upwards and it was exciting. Instead of a mere 600ft, today we were going to gain over 3,000ft. The weather started to turn, first getting colder and then throwing a bit of snow and wind at us. Visibility dropped, but it was still manageable. We passed a few groups, some at 9,600 and some camped around 10,000. No one on our team suggested stopping. We all felt safe enough, though Sarah did place some wands as the route turned towards Camp 2. This was the only moderately bad weather that we encountered on the way up.
The last hour was pretty brutal and I was feeling the altitude a bit. We were all quite happy to arrive at 11,200’ Camp with the sun still shining. Turns out 11 Camp gets a fair bit of sun, but no radio signal, still debating if that’s a good trade off. There was a site to move into, but it was only big enough for one tent. We spend some time excavating and made enough space for both tents, but not much else. I had mostly been making the dinners, and quite enjoyed that. We had soup and tortillas, and lots of snacks of course.
The last hour was pretty brutal and I was feeling the altitude a bit. We were all quite happy to arrive at 11,200’ Camp with the sun still shining. Turns out 11 Camp gets a fair bit of sun, but no radio signal, still debating if that’s a good trade off. There was a site to move into, but it was only big enough for one tent. We spend some time excavating and made enough space for both tents, but not much else. I had mostly been making the dinners, and quite enjoyed that. We had soup and tortillas, and lots of snacks of course.
Day 4: Motorcycle Hill
Even after reading the guidebook I don’t understand why its called Motorcycle Hill, oh well. It exists, and it is the steepest portion of the route up to that point. It is the largest and most difficult of 3 hills that sit between Camps two and three; Motorcycle, the traverse around Squirrel Point and the climb up to Windy Corner.
We had decided the night before to sleep in and I was quite happy to do so. I never really slept through the night during the trip, but then again I don’t think I ever do in a tent. The weather was good and spirits were high. Deciding what to do would prove to be rather difficult though.
Sarah and I liked the idea of resting and then doing a single carry to 14 the next day. Sarah was mostly concerned about so many days in a row and didn't want to cache gear. My reasons were more selfish and had to do with my idea of “Always up, Never down.” I had this idealistic plan to never double carry, or cache gear, but I don’t think it would have been the best. Doable, sure…but not fun.
Peter and Liam were worried about pulling the sleds up the hills and over the icy traverses with all our weight. It took a couple of hours of discussion while casually getting ready. Sarah and I agreed to carry, which probably turned out to be the right decision.
We had decided the night before to sleep in and I was quite happy to do so. I never really slept through the night during the trip, but then again I don’t think I ever do in a tent. The weather was good and spirits were high. Deciding what to do would prove to be rather difficult though.
Sarah and I liked the idea of resting and then doing a single carry to 14 the next day. Sarah was mostly concerned about so many days in a row and didn't want to cache gear. My reasons were more selfish and had to do with my idea of “Always up, Never down.” I had this idealistic plan to never double carry, or cache gear, but I don’t think it would have been the best. Doable, sure…but not fun.
Peter and Liam were worried about pulling the sleds up the hills and over the icy traverses with all our weight. It took a couple of hours of discussion while casually getting ready. Sarah and I agreed to carry, which probably turned out to be the right decision.
We were moving by 3pm, which sounds late, but sometimes that’s just how you roll in Alaska. Crampons, ice axes, no sleds, almost makes the 50 plus lbs you are carrying feel light. We roped in the usual order and made our way towards Motorcycle Hill. The going was enjoyable, but without the sleds it was not terribly challenging. There were 1 or 2 crevasse crossing and a lot of walking uphill. I made an effort to keep a slower and steady pace.
Above Motorcycle you traverse around Squirrel Point, really the first place on the mountain with fall potential. It was icy, but there was some buffer and the angle wasn’t too steep. We made quick work up and around and onto the large plateau below Windy Corner. A light wind was present, but it was pretty clear the route ahead would go. Lucky us. We took five and unanimously agreed to go higher to cache at 13,500 feet. Heading up to Windy Corner is also pretty mellow. We wore helmets here. We had brought them in case we had time to climb another route, as well as 2 pairs of ice tools. Had we not done that I don’t think it’s worth using a helmet – at least in May.
Around Windy Corner there is another traverse that requires your attention, but it is far from “Tremendously exposed” as the book suggests. This was also our first view of a lot of the upper mountain and my good friend The Messner Couloir. Many times during the trip I would grab my ice tools and yell “Reinhold!” while looking up at the route. I want to climb it. My first glimpse of it elicited a similar response.
We were at the cache spot at 7 and decided there wasn’t much point in going to 14. This might have been a bad idea as Camp 2 gets late sun and Peter and I would have to go retrieve the cache on a rest day. On the way down we reversed the rope order and I happily took in the views while listening to some tunes. This was a good day, the kind that reminded me of why I was out there in the first place.
Above Motorcycle you traverse around Squirrel Point, really the first place on the mountain with fall potential. It was icy, but there was some buffer and the angle wasn’t too steep. We made quick work up and around and onto the large plateau below Windy Corner. A light wind was present, but it was pretty clear the route ahead would go. Lucky us. We took five and unanimously agreed to go higher to cache at 13,500 feet. Heading up to Windy Corner is also pretty mellow. We wore helmets here. We had brought them in case we had time to climb another route, as well as 2 pairs of ice tools. Had we not done that I don’t think it’s worth using a helmet – at least in May.
Around Windy Corner there is another traverse that requires your attention, but it is far from “Tremendously exposed” as the book suggests. This was also our first view of a lot of the upper mountain and my good friend The Messner Couloir. Many times during the trip I would grab my ice tools and yell “Reinhold!” while looking up at the route. I want to climb it. My first glimpse of it elicited a similar response.
We were at the cache spot at 7 and decided there wasn’t much point in going to 14. This might have been a bad idea as Camp 2 gets late sun and Peter and I would have to go retrieve the cache on a rest day. On the way down we reversed the rope order and I happily took in the views while listening to some tunes. This was a good day, the kind that reminded me of why I was out there in the first place.
Day 5: New Home, Camp 14opolis
Since 11 camp gets late sun hit we slept in again. We knew that we didn’t need to leave before lunch, which allowed us to relax. Since we had ferried half of our gear up to 13,500’ already and the route was steep, we decided to only use three sleds. This was also the morning we met Marc and Ali Savage, Australians, who would be companions of ours for the rest of the trip. Marc and Liam would wind up summiting together. Overall we found that the vast majority of climbers were not American.
We missed our target departure time by an hour, but it wasn’t a big deal. Sarah and I swapped places so she could get a chance on the sharp end. The trip up Motorcycle Hill wasn’t exactly pleasant with a sled, but you do what you gotta do. The trip around Squirrel wasn’t much better and I was relieved to be above the difficulties.
Atop Windy Corner we took a rest and met a German/Australian couple that was also moving up to 14 Camp. Ralf and Gerlinde would offer their advice and company throughout the rest of the trip, sharing many memorable conversations and their invaluable private weather forecasts’. We were all lucky to get a second day in a row that the light wind allowed us to move past, and even rest on, Windy Corner.
We missed our target departure time by an hour, but it wasn’t a big deal. Sarah and I swapped places so she could get a chance on the sharp end. The trip up Motorcycle Hill wasn’t exactly pleasant with a sled, but you do what you gotta do. The trip around Squirrel wasn’t much better and I was relieved to be above the difficulties.
Atop Windy Corner we took a rest and met a German/Australian couple that was also moving up to 14 Camp. Ralf and Gerlinde would offer their advice and company throughout the rest of the trip, sharing many memorable conversations and their invaluable private weather forecasts’. We were all lucky to get a second day in a row that the light wind allowed us to move past, and even rest on, Windy Corner.
Above Windy Corner the route has a bit of fall potential, but overall the angle is low. The slope is gradual but never ending. The remaining trip to Camp was not a gimme and making it to 14 Camp felt good. This had been a major goal of mine for the trip. The shadow comes early there, before 9pm and we instantly got to work on building a site. Sarah had invaluable knowledge here and we wound up with a pretty awesome home for a week. It got pretty cold pretty quickly and I was in my sleeping bag as early as I could get away with. I didn’t know it then, but the trip would switch gears, from here on out we would live here. |
Day 6: Backcarry
The night was probably the coldest for me of the trip, but by 9am I was reading Hitchhiker’s. When the sun came at 10, I got out of the tent. Peter was coming back from talking to the Rangers. I asked if he wanted to go retrieve our cache and he did. Liam and Sarah were up by then and we hung out for a bit before setting off just before 1pm with two packs and a sled. The trip down was easy, but I wasn’t looking forward to the return.
It took all of 20 minutes to get to our cache spot and just another few to dig it up. Peter just grabbed the duffel, which probably weighed 80 pounds, no joke, and put it on his sled. I tried to put as much as I could into my pack, but he certainly did most of the work. We were back by 3pm and our teammates had water ready, very cool.
The rest of the day was spent being lazy and it was wonderful.
It took all of 20 minutes to get to our cache spot and just another few to dig it up. Peter just grabbed the duffel, which probably weighed 80 pounds, no joke, and put it on his sled. I tried to put as much as I could into my pack, but he certainly did most of the work. We were back by 3pm and our teammates had water ready, very cool.
The rest of the day was spent being lazy and it was wonderful.
Day 7: Heading Up the Headwall
The obvious choice for the day was to climb up a bit. Making it to 16,200 would give us a chance to climb the steepest part of the route and acclimate a bit. We roped up with Liam in the lead. Most of us didn’t carry very much at all. Freedom.
We hung with Marc a bit who made some hilarious comments about the Russians heading up the slope and then we were on our way. It was a clear afternoon, not too cold. The initial progress was sweet, going up about 400ft in only 15 minutes. Higher up we slowed down a bit. Liam was in the lead today and it was clear that he was enjoying himself. Overall, the trip to the fixed ropes went by quicker than expected.
Being early in the season, the ropes were mostly left over from last year. Some were frozen under ice, while others were not secured to an anchor. This required us to climb a few sections of steep icy snow in order to gain the true fixed lines, and being on a rope team made this rather difficult. In fact, once we were on the ropes and jugging, the intervals of the anchors and the intervals of our rope team clashed quite a bit. The going was pretty unpleasant. We met two parties that had come from the summit the day before and both looked to be in pretty rough shape (these were the 5 climbers who made the summit before we were in a position to try).
We hung with Marc a bit who made some hilarious comments about the Russians heading up the slope and then we were on our way. It was a clear afternoon, not too cold. The initial progress was sweet, going up about 400ft in only 15 minutes. Higher up we slowed down a bit. Liam was in the lead today and it was clear that he was enjoying himself. Overall, the trip to the fixed ropes went by quicker than expected.
Being early in the season, the ropes were mostly left over from last year. Some were frozen under ice, while others were not secured to an anchor. This required us to climb a few sections of steep icy snow in order to gain the true fixed lines, and being on a rope team made this rather difficult. In fact, once we were on the ropes and jugging, the intervals of the anchors and the intervals of our rope team clashed quite a bit. The going was pretty unpleasant. We met two parties that had come from the summit the day before and both looked to be in pretty rough shape (these were the 5 climbers who made the summit before we were in a position to try).
Oh well, before too long we were on top of the ridge and it was very cold and windy. We briefly discussed why our pace had been so slow as well as whether or not we should continue. We all agreed that it would be prudent to simply return to camp. The trip down was a similar hassle with being on a rope team and I was very glad to be back at camp.
Heading to bed that night we all agreed that a full day of rest was in order. I made a nice Italian dinner while Liam and I schemed for the future. I had really enjoyed climbing with him today and we share similar dreams. Peter was glad to see that we weren’t getting ahead of ourselves with wanting to climb a certain 3 mountains inside of six months (Ha-Ha). The team hung out in Sarah and my tent well into the night and spirits were high. We discussed our upcoming trip to Peru and remarked how much more pleasant the weather would be!
Heading to bed that night we all agreed that a full day of rest was in order. I made a nice Italian dinner while Liam and I schemed for the future. I had really enjoyed climbing with him today and we share similar dreams. Peter was glad to see that we weren’t getting ahead of ourselves with wanting to climb a certain 3 mountains inside of six months (Ha-Ha). The team hung out in Sarah and my tent well into the night and spirits were high. We discussed our upcoming trip to Peru and remarked how much more pleasant the weather would be!
Day 8: A Day of Rest
Rest is a wonderful thing, especially when it involves hanging out at 14,200ft on Denali. We all slept in and had a pleasant morning waiting for the sun. We ate and drank and enjoyed life. We brought lunch over to a friend’s tent, a team attempting Cassin (one was from CO and one was from Alaska) and played cards for a few hours. We talked a bit of Colorado and mutual friends. It was relaxing. Afterwards we built up our walls a bit in case we woke up the next morning to a storm.
Sarah and I were keen to move higher on the mountain and were having trouble deciding what to do since the forecasts were severely less than optimal, but highly suspect. Really, I cannot reconcile this, even now. The forecast is always wrong, but you can’t bank on that being the case. For example, if you moved up during a bad forecast and something happened, you’d feel stupid, but what did happen was we sat on our ass for days while blue skies loomed overhead.
8pm, time for the weather. 35 mph or higher summit winds, low visibility, very cold – no go. Bummer. We hung out again as a team well into the night, expecting yet another rest day in our future.
Sarah and I were keen to move higher on the mountain and were having trouble deciding what to do since the forecasts were severely less than optimal, but highly suspect. Really, I cannot reconcile this, even now. The forecast is always wrong, but you can’t bank on that being the case. For example, if you moved up during a bad forecast and something happened, you’d feel stupid, but what did happen was we sat on our ass for days while blue skies loomed overhead.
8pm, time for the weather. 35 mph or higher summit winds, low visibility, very cold – no go. Bummer. We hung out again as a team well into the night, expecting yet another rest day in our future.
Day 9: The Fastest Axe in the West
Here it is. This is the day, without a doubt the finest day of the trip for me and quite possibly the most fulfilling day I have ever spent in the mountains. I was up a bit after 9am and immediately wondered where the wind was, and why I wasn’t shivering. Sarah was up after a bit and we talked. The original plan was for Peter and I to scout out the Upper West Rib, since that was in fact our main goal for the trip. Sarah was going to go up the lines again on her own, and Liam was going to be Liam. I liked the idea of the Rib, but the weather, oh man…I have no patience. Even though the NPS readily admits their forecasts are woefully inaccurate, I still found it difficult not to be a bit pissed off. Clearly today was the best day we were going to see for a while. Sarah and Peter had no interest in trying for the summit. It was already almost noon, we were only at 14 camp and we weren’t ready to go. I am not as practical and I was getting my stuff together. I barely had to ask, I knew Liam was going to go for it with me.
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I packed my summit gear and got a couple liters of water from Sarah and Peter who played the support role for our summit attempt (thanks guys!). They left for another acclimatization hike to the top of the fixed lines later that afternoon.
I was anxious to get moving as I knew the weather could change any moment and we had over 6,000 ft of gain to make the summit. I headed out at 12:45pm, and Liam followed not too long after. We agreed to meet at 17 Camp and rope up there for the trip up Denali Pass. I pretty much sprinted out of camp since I knew it would be the easiest portion of a long day ahead and we were already way behind schedule if we really wanted to do this. Plus, there were 2 teams of rangers also moving up and I was all too aware of what that meant. I pictured Liam and I at 17 Camp getting ready to climb the Autobahn and them asking where our tent was, our stove, our sleeping bags, etc…I don’t think the Park Service approves of I Man style – AKA climb through the night or descend really fast if you get into trouble. Luckily, this did not wind up being an issue as we left 17 Camp before they arrived and turned us around.
I was anxious to get moving as I knew the weather could change any moment and we had over 6,000 ft of gain to make the summit. I headed out at 12:45pm, and Liam followed not too long after. We agreed to meet at 17 Camp and rope up there for the trip up Denali Pass. I pretty much sprinted out of camp since I knew it would be the easiest portion of a long day ahead and we were already way behind schedule if we really wanted to do this. Plus, there were 2 teams of rangers also moving up and I was all too aware of what that meant. I pictured Liam and I at 17 Camp getting ready to climb the Autobahn and them asking where our tent was, our stove, our sleeping bags, etc…I don’t think the Park Service approves of I Man style – AKA climb through the night or descend really fast if you get into trouble. Luckily, this did not wind up being an issue as we left 17 Camp before they arrived and turned us around.
I rocked out to some Biscuits and enjoyed the bluebird day as I made my way up the slope towards the Headwall. The trip up the ropes felt familiar the second time around and I was on the ridge at 16,200 roughly an hour after I left camp. Unchartered territories lie ahead. I hung out a bit to see where Liam was as I was unsure if I should expect him to solo the ridge. After a bit I moved on, weather still holding perfectly.
The ridge is classic alpine climbing, far and away the best part of the route (that I saw). There are pickets buried all over the place and the fall potential is very real, but the going is easy. It was not quite the “walk-up” that I had expected and I was pleasantly surprised. Below Washburn’s Thumb I met a Japanese soloist who was descending from 17 Camp. He had attempted the summit the day before and turned around only 200ft below the summit, unfortunately pushing it too far. He was in a bad way, suffering from altitude sickness and minor frostbite. We chatted a bit and he continued down the ridge, eventually meeting up with the Rangers.
The trip around Washburn’s Thumb is the steepest portion of the ridge and there were a few fixed lines in place. Beyond this a knife edged snow ridge or two add to the character of the climb. The last bit to 17 Camp is mellow and I arrived around 3:30pm. Only 2 tents were present, and both were empty. High Camp was an interesting place, that’s for sure. I got my overboots on and got the rope out. Liam wasn’t that far behind and we needed to be ready to move as soon as possible. Of course, getting overboots on at 17,200ft in May on Denali is not an easy task and involves removing your crampons, and by the time we were both dressed and ready to go it must have been 4pm. Lame, but that’s how it goes.
The ridge is classic alpine climbing, far and away the best part of the route (that I saw). There are pickets buried all over the place and the fall potential is very real, but the going is easy. It was not quite the “walk-up” that I had expected and I was pleasantly surprised. Below Washburn’s Thumb I met a Japanese soloist who was descending from 17 Camp. He had attempted the summit the day before and turned around only 200ft below the summit, unfortunately pushing it too far. He was in a bad way, suffering from altitude sickness and minor frostbite. We chatted a bit and he continued down the ridge, eventually meeting up with the Rangers.
The trip around Washburn’s Thumb is the steepest portion of the ridge and there were a few fixed lines in place. Beyond this a knife edged snow ridge or two add to the character of the climb. The last bit to 17 Camp is mellow and I arrived around 3:30pm. Only 2 tents were present, and both were empty. High Camp was an interesting place, that’s for sure. I got my overboots on and got the rope out. Liam wasn’t that far behind and we needed to be ready to move as soon as possible. Of course, getting overboots on at 17,200ft in May on Denali is not an easy task and involves removing your crampons, and by the time we were both dressed and ready to go it must have been 4pm. Lame, but that’s how it goes.
The Autobahn is undeniably the most dangerous part of the route, and is responsible for more fatalities than any other spot. I was not interested in soloing this section. We knew the route was going to be icy and that an arrest was likely not going to succeed. Because of this, we agreed to always be clipped to a picket. We moved fairly quickly across the camp and I was soon crossing the vertical step onto the upper slopes, clipping the first picket on my way. Continuing on the pro was spaced close enough that we were always protected, using a 30m rope between us.
It’s hard to know what I was thinking here. It was 5pm, we had no bivy gear, and we still had over 2,000ft to go. Still, the weather was good and our team was moving very well at altitude. Up ahead, two climbers emerged. It was Ralf and Gerlinde. They had a private weather source and had known of this morning’s promising window. They had moved up via the Rescue Gully the night before to avoid High Winds and spent a miserable night in their BD First Light at 17 Camp. They had left the tent at first sun and enjoyed a bluebird day and the summit to themselves. Impressive work, but not surprising when you’ve climbed all 14 8000m peaks!
Gerlinde and I talked a bit, and decided that there was still a chance of making the summit, so Liam and I continued, agreeing to check in with them on the way down. That didn’t last long though as the winds and snow picked up shortly after and the pickets were becoming more and more spaced out, requiring us to make small traverses unprotected. At 6pm, at 18,000ft just below Denali Pass, I turned to Liam and suggested we go down. His answer was immediate. Now it was time to test our theory. Could we descend in a storm 4,000ft to safety fast enough to avoid the prospect of an unprotected bivy, high on the coldest mountain on Earth – in early season.
Liam led and our progress was steady. Before long we were back at 17 Camp. I suggested that we stay roped for the ridge descent due to low visibility and cold. I clipped the pickets often, but it was likely not necessary. On top of the Headwall we unroped and descended on our own. At 9:45pm I arrived back at Camp, only 15 minutes before we were scheduled to radio our teammates for the first time. They had water and food for us.
It’s hard to know what I was thinking here. It was 5pm, we had no bivy gear, and we still had over 2,000ft to go. Still, the weather was good and our team was moving very well at altitude. Up ahead, two climbers emerged. It was Ralf and Gerlinde. They had a private weather source and had known of this morning’s promising window. They had moved up via the Rescue Gully the night before to avoid High Winds and spent a miserable night in their BD First Light at 17 Camp. They had left the tent at first sun and enjoyed a bluebird day and the summit to themselves. Impressive work, but not surprising when you’ve climbed all 14 8000m peaks!
Gerlinde and I talked a bit, and decided that there was still a chance of making the summit, so Liam and I continued, agreeing to check in with them on the way down. That didn’t last long though as the winds and snow picked up shortly after and the pickets were becoming more and more spaced out, requiring us to make small traverses unprotected. At 6pm, at 18,000ft just below Denali Pass, I turned to Liam and suggested we go down. His answer was immediate. Now it was time to test our theory. Could we descend in a storm 4,000ft to safety fast enough to avoid the prospect of an unprotected bivy, high on the coldest mountain on Earth – in early season.
Liam led and our progress was steady. Before long we were back at 17 Camp. I suggested that we stay roped for the ridge descent due to low visibility and cold. I clipped the pickets often, but it was likely not necessary. On top of the Headwall we unroped and descended on our own. At 9:45pm I arrived back at Camp, only 15 minutes before we were scheduled to radio our teammates for the first time. They had water and food for us.
Day 10: Wondering What To Do
The time that everyone fears, but never thinks will come; deciding when to surrender. Peter had a flight to catch, the weather wasn’t improving and we were running out of options. Thursday was the last day Peter could realistically try for the summit, and the forecast was shit. Tuesday called for a brief lull, but it was still going to be very cold with 30 mph winds. Not too great. Either way, Tuesday was the only chance for a week, so we now needed to decide if we were going to use a High Camp or not. It would improve our summit chances, but it was very cold and very windy, so the trip up was going to be very unpleasant. After building a camp, it was possible we just wouldn’t have the energy to make the attempt the next day. After a lot of thought and discussion we decided to make an attempt from 14 Camp, all of us, the next morning beginning at 6am. Sound frigid? It was.
Day 11: Summit Attempt, Part II
I found it hard not to get up early, and I failed. I was fully dressed before anyone else was out of their bag. Stupid. It took a while to get ready overall, simple tasks were a struggle. It was about -30 and miserable. It took all the willpower I had not to get back into the tent and give up. We got moving around 7am. Sarah & I had agreed to stay together, and Liam and Peter would be a team. Each pair carried a rope and gear, including a sleeping bag. |
The trip up to the Headwall was mentally very tough, but by now physically very easy. At the base of the Headwall we got our first sun, and it changed everything. I went up the ropes and enjoyed some alone time atop the ridge before getting extremely cold. I hung out on the ridge for a bit before continuing. I was very excited for Peter and Sarah to see the ridge, as I knew it would make all the sled hauling worth it. |
Unfortunately, despite our early start, it had taken over 6 hours for the full team to reach High Camp and we weren’t much better off than Liam and I had been 2 days before. It was only an hour earlier and it was colder and windier. Neither was promising for a safe summit. Sarah and I didn’t really need to talk; I knew we were going down. Liam and Peter decided to go for it, but they didn’t get very far, meeting a team of Russians who had left from 17 Camp earlier that day and had to turn back. It was just too cold and windy, not safe. This deterred them and they were back at 17 Camp before Sarah and I had even begun to descend.
The trip down was uneventful and enjoyable; we talked a lot and took in the views. The ridge was pretty crowded. I knew that this was likely the last time I’d be up here and that the most likely scenario involved Peter, Sarah and I descending the following day. It was bittersweet, hard to explain really. Lots of things out of our control, I did the best I could without compromising the safety of my teammates or myself.
Arriving at Camp, I made the mistake of checking the weather board, which forecasted another possibly maybe not really but I want to try summit day for the following day. I asked Liam if he had another 14 to Summit attempt in him and he said he did, but we wound up shelving the idea since it wasn’t in the best interest of the team. Sarah and I went to bed feeling a bit defeated.
Arriving at Camp, I made the mistake of checking the weather board, which forecasted another possibly maybe not really but I want to try summit day for the following day. I asked Liam if he had another 14 to Summit attempt in him and he said he did, but we wound up shelving the idea since it wasn’t in the best interest of the team. Sarah and I went to bed feeling a bit defeated.
Day 12: Cheeseburgers
I have always found that once I decide to descend, my mind immediately craves the comforts of society. All ambition is set aside and I look forward to being down. I flirted with these feelings briefly, but Denali is not your average drive to the trailhead mountain. We had a lot of ground to cover, with sleds, and we needed to be flown off of the glacier. Cheeseburgers were 2 days away at a minimum, maybe tomorrow night if we got seriously lucky.
It took most of the day to get ready. We said our goodbyes to our friends. We had to split up gear since Liam was going to stay and team up with our neighbors Marc and Ali. Before leaving the four of us hiked over to the Edge of the World, a very worthwhile experience. The Russian team was also descending, like us, they only had a limited amount of time remaining and the forecasts were only getting worse. By the time we got out of Camp the clouds were really starting to build down below. I didn’t say anything, figuring that if I ignored the fact that we were descending into a storm that it wouldn’t happen. Uh huh, that works every time.
It was extremely windy around Windy Corner and the descent to 11 Camp was exciting. We moved back into our old Camp spot, made dinner and went to bed. I wanted to get back to Talkeetna the next day, but the storm could go for days. We would have to decide in the morning.
It took most of the day to get ready. We said our goodbyes to our friends. We had to split up gear since Liam was going to stay and team up with our neighbors Marc and Ali. Before leaving the four of us hiked over to the Edge of the World, a very worthwhile experience. The Russian team was also descending, like us, they only had a limited amount of time remaining and the forecasts were only getting worse. By the time we got out of Camp the clouds were really starting to build down below. I didn’t say anything, figuring that if I ignored the fact that we were descending into a storm that it wouldn’t happen. Uh huh, that works every time.
It was extremely windy around Windy Corner and the descent to 11 Camp was exciting. We moved back into our old Camp spot, made dinner and went to bed. I wanted to get back to Talkeetna the next day, but the storm could go for days. We would have to decide in the morning.
Day 13: Winds, and Lots of It
We woke up to howling winds and poor visibility. Some teams were moving, but many were staying still. Of course, most were going up so staying put seemed optimal for them. We had made a big mistake, in that we left all but a single bottle of fuel with Liam. I guess we just weren’t thinking. We talked about what to do, deciding to wait out the day in Camp, and reassessing in the morning. If the weather was still bad in the morning we would descend so Peter didn’t miss his flight. Once we accepted that we were staying put, it was easy to relax. I spent the day reading and eating and hanging with my friends. It was good stuff.
Day 14: A Taste of Desperation
The morning was not promising. Well, it was at first, as often happens in orange tents. It sounded windy but had the appearance of blue skies. This was not the case though. Sarah got out of the tent and broke the news that it was as bad, or worse, than yesterday. We were out of time and almost out of fuel though, so we had to descend to basecamp where our cache was or at least to Camp 2 where we might find some folks with extra gas. I was dreading the getting ready part, but not so much the actual moving part. I had volunteered to lead. Yesterday a two man team had taken a fall and suffered a broken rib. I did not want to be that guy. I was confident I could follow wands, GPS and compass readings to get us to 7800 Camp. We left just behind a large guided group who were going to retrieve a cache and the initial going was very easy.
Once beyond their cache visibility got way worse and the wands were more sporadic. I held the Compass and Sarah kept an eye on the GPS. This sucked. I was breaking trail in any direction; I was constantly veering to the right, and of course. I was not enjoying myself at all, but I knew that with a little vigilance we would make it to camp without incident. We passed a few isolated camps and I even had a chat with a dude who did not have a good command of the English language. I think I told him not to move up, but who knows. Above Ski hill the winds started appearing again and we could feel the slope going down. My spirits rose, but I was physically exhausted. We arrived at Camp 2 and dropped our gear immediately to take a rest. A very nice pair of climbers next to us gave us a few liters of water. I was able to get fuel from a group of British Wounded Warriors camped next to us. Aside from fuel, they also offered hours of stories and discussion about 8000m peaks and a bit of Whiskey. I enjoyed their company very much.
Back in our camp we ate some dinner and played cards. None of us were keen to move to basecamp and figured we would get going in the morning. This was already our 3rd night on descent. It had been the toughest day of the trip for all of us.
Once beyond their cache visibility got way worse and the wands were more sporadic. I held the Compass and Sarah kept an eye on the GPS. This sucked. I was breaking trail in any direction; I was constantly veering to the right, and of course. I was not enjoying myself at all, but I knew that with a little vigilance we would make it to camp without incident. We passed a few isolated camps and I even had a chat with a dude who did not have a good command of the English language. I think I told him not to move up, but who knows. Above Ski hill the winds started appearing again and we could feel the slope going down. My spirits rose, but I was physically exhausted. We arrived at Camp 2 and dropped our gear immediately to take a rest. A very nice pair of climbers next to us gave us a few liters of water. I was able to get fuel from a group of British Wounded Warriors camped next to us. Aside from fuel, they also offered hours of stories and discussion about 8000m peaks and a bit of Whiskey. I enjoyed their company very much.
Back in our camp we ate some dinner and played cards. None of us were keen to move to basecamp and figured we would get going in the morning. This was already our 3rd night on descent. It had been the toughest day of the trip for all of us.
Day 15: The Simple Things
Finally the weather changed. The morning was one of much improvement and there was no doubt that we would be moving to basecamp. We got ready very quickly, but then took our time to get going. The funny thing about the Alaska Range is that when the weather is bad you can’t get down, but when it is good you don’t want to. The views were back, and I wanted them to last. Oh well, we had been on the mountain for 15 days now, and it would always be here. I knew this would not be my last time at this camp. Peter volunteered to lead, and Sarah took a sled, leaving me in the back to relax with only a pack. It was a welcome break from the task of leading the day before, a task that I found to be more difficult than any other on the expedition. |
The weather cleared more and more as we made our way across the Kahiltna. I listened to music and reflected on the trip. The three of us had come close, but not made the summit, though in the process learning much and changing forever. It is clear that the trip meant something different to each of, but the effect was profound. By the time we were nearing the base of Heartbreak Hill I could hear planes. I knew we would fly out later that day; a cheeseburger was in my future!
At camp I dug up our cache and dove right into the Johnny Walker I had stashed. I even traded some for a cold can of PBR, probably the best beer I have ever had. It was almost 8pm by the time Sheldon got us, but it didn’t matter. The afternoon had been enjoyable, hanging in the sun, drinking, talking about what we had just experienced. The flight out was as incredible as the flight in and the Pub Food at the West Rib was everything I could have hoped for. We spent the night sleeping in the Sheldon hangar.
Mountaineering is a lifetime apprenticeship, there is always something new to learn. I shared conversations with many wise climbers during this trip and learned more than I could have hoped for. If you do this long enough, something will happen, so it is always important to know why and what you are doing. Only choose to climb a peak and a style if what you get out of it cannot be found anywhere else. These words were shared with me by Marc, just before leaving, and they resonate with me. Find what your passion in life is, and find it early, then everything else will fall into place. If I didn’t know it before Alaska, I know it now.
At camp I dug up our cache and dove right into the Johnny Walker I had stashed. I even traded some for a cold can of PBR, probably the best beer I have ever had. It was almost 8pm by the time Sheldon got us, but it didn’t matter. The afternoon had been enjoyable, hanging in the sun, drinking, talking about what we had just experienced. The flight out was as incredible as the flight in and the Pub Food at the West Rib was everything I could have hoped for. We spent the night sleeping in the Sheldon hangar.
Mountaineering is a lifetime apprenticeship, there is always something new to learn. I shared conversations with many wise climbers during this trip and learned more than I could have hoped for. If you do this long enough, something will happen, so it is always important to know why and what you are doing. Only choose to climb a peak and a style if what you get out of it cannot be found anywhere else. These words were shared with me by Marc, just before leaving, and they resonate with me. Find what your passion in life is, and find it early, then everything else will fall into place. If I didn’t know it before Alaska, I know it now.