Denali 2019

A grand trip in a grand range. 

First things first, I needed to pick up Thomas in Logan. 

He was graduating, so Nicole and I spent the day with him and his family enjoying the free lunch and various festivities. 

After that, it was a quick push up to Kuna to sort the rest of our gear, say goodbyes, and make sure Shadow knew she was to survive until I got back.

Need a TNF sponsorship!

The next morning, the 5th of May, Thomas and I set out to Seattle to meet with his friends Shannon and Donald, who graciously offered us a place to park the car for the duration of the trip, a place to stay for a few nights, and airport transportation. We owe them a lot more than the six pack we brought.

May 6th was the day we were set to arrive in Talkeetna. The early flight to ANC and the van ride to Talkeetna Air Taxi (TAT) went off without a hitch, and we ended up checking in for our flight to the glacier around 2pm. Time to sort gear.

The TSA was responsible for two lost pudding cups on the flight.

Our bags were in compliance with the airline's standards, so we needed to rearrange and drop an extra bag to get ready for the trip. We opted to do a full duffel of food (about 60lbs), a duffel with tents and a few snacks and extras, and personal gear in packs. This would keep the overall pack weight low for the first few legs of the journey, we hoped to save our shoulders as much as possible. Turns out any way you pack them, big packs and heavy sleds suck. Our flight was set to leave at 8am the next morning, but the weather did not look good. They hadn't flown that day or the day prior, any hopes were not high for the next few days. 

Commence the Talkeetna Hang. 

Fast forward a few days of walking laps around town in search of cheap food and free coffee. 

May 9, 2019. Day one-

The day dawned relatively clear and sunny, we rousted about 7:30am from the TAT bunkhouse and packed up, just making it to Conscious Coffee in time for one more cup before we made it to TAT. We were flying today! 

Thomas and Plane.

We were scheduled to be in the second plane out, and there was a little waiting around in mountain boots and shell pants on the tarmac to let a few errant clouds clear and for the plane ahead of us to clear. But, around 11am, we took off, destination Kahiltna Base. 

Base camp from Hunter Pass.

The flight in was truly and experience. You can see Denali from the airstrip, our first view of it on the whole trip. Since Talkeetna is only at about 350' above sea level, Denali is an easy 20,000' above us. Big is an understatement.

We landed, picked up our fuel, and pulled our gear off the landing strip and started sorting. We had decided to push to 7,800' camp that day, and we had neglected to fill our water bottles at TAT. So Thomas started melting water as I headed up the hill to bury an extra Clean Mountain Can, some snacks, and a few day's worth of food in case we couldn't fly out immediately on return to base. 

Base and Mt Hunter.

Starting down Heartbreak Hill, Mt. Crosson above, Kahiltna Dome to the right.

This walk was a killer. Packs were heavy, sleds nearly unbearable. The sun bouncing off the snow-covered peaks around us made it unbearably hot, but the solar radiation prevented one from exposing too much skin to cool. The scale on the lower Kahiltna is hard to imagine. The glacier is easily a mile across, but it looks like an easy ten minute's walk to the other side. Luckily(?), clouds soon obscured the sun, and it was snowing lightly by the time we pulled into what we thought was 7,800' camp. Little did we know we wouldn't be without fresh snow for the next nine days. 

"7,800" camp

We dug a half-assed snow wall, unpacked as little as we needed to, and dove into the tent, utterly spent.

May 10. Day two-

Snow. Snow everywhere. The sides of the tent were half buried, every side of the tent was buried. At least a foot of snow had fallen over night, and it wasn't letting up. Luckily, the wind wasn't blowing. Thomas and I didn't have much weather info, but figured if the wind wasn't unbearable then it couldn't really be that bad. We packed up camp slowly and decided to keep moving, maybe making it up to about 9,800' being the goal for the day. 

We started slogging at our soon-to-be usual start time, about 12pm. The lack of overnight darkness made for some good sleeping in; The Alaskan Alpine Start, as I dubbed it. 

It was snowing, the wind was blowing lightly, and visibility was poor. We had made it about 200' up and half a mile over when we came across another grouping of tents, this time with a group of NPS rangers and some other folks. This camp was right at the base of Ski Hill, and we quickly realized this was the actual 7,800' camp. At this time, the clouds descended even further, and we couldn't see more than 15' in front of us. There was no broken trail, only wands, but even those were completely obscured. Oh well. Time to make camp agin. 

Visitor at 7,800' camp.

More snow. More wind. We ate, screwed around camp a bit, making this one much more weatherproof, and read. Then off to bed around midnight.

May 11. Day three- 

The weather had not cleared, but we awoke to some movement around us. Two guys from Oregon were pushing up the hill in skis, breaking trail. Sweet! We quickly got a cache together with the intention of carrying up to 9,800' camp and heading back down. We motored up the hill, feeling light without sleds, and quickly caught up to the other two guys. We passed them around the top of Ski Hill, and wandered around between wands until we found some guys in a deep camp. They had been holed up for a few days already, and we had the pleasure of dropping our cache in the windless area behind their camp. With that done, the only thing left to do was turn into the wind and get the hell out of there. 

Dressed for the occasion.

Dinner!

May 12. Day four-

Sun! Or, sort of. Not snow, it was close enough. 

Someone...

It was time to go. Thomas and I fully intended to move up to our cache, retrieve it, and move a little higher up the Kahiltna until we found a suitable place to camp. The camp and the one below us had been growing steadily busier as groups filtered in and no one left. And with our slow mornings, many people had started up the hill and groomed it nicely for us. By the time we were moving it was around 12:30, and the sun was finally starting to shine. 

Ready to go.

We made good time up Ski Hill, passing most parties by the time we reached our cache. We scooped it up, now slowed by the extra gear, and kept plodding along. We reached the Kahiltna Pass area, and decided we wanted no part in camping on that windswept piece of property. We moved a few hundred more vertical feet, to where the valley turns towards 11k camp, and made a nice camp in a snowy hollow. We were finally above the weather, and were rewarded with some awesome views, both of where we came from and where we were going. 

10,300' camp.

Crosson, Foraker, and KD.

May 13. Day five-

Looking up-route on the morning of the 13th.

Beautiful morning. We only had about 700' to go to get to 11k camp, so we took our time. All in all an uneventful day.

May 14. Day six- 

Woke up in 11k camp well rested after an easy previous day. The winds were manageable, and we were ready to get moving. We decided to bring a cache up to Windy Corner, and sleep at 11k again. We were the second group out in the morning, following a guided group up Motorcycle Hill. We reached the crest of MH in no time, but the winds were much stiffer up there. The guided group decided to turn back (they had sleds) and we decided to find somewhere out of the wind to figure out our move. Luckily, the only place out of the wind was halfway up Squirrel Hill!

Switching from slowshoes to crampons with the West Buttress looming above.

We tethered our snowshoes on an ice screw in the blue ice on Squirrel and started moving. Squirrel was icy, but there was a nice strip of styrofoam snow off to the left that allowed us quick and easy ascent.

Looking back.

We crossed the Polo Fields without much issue, and started up the long gradual hill to Windy. When we got there, all the snow had blown off the ground, leaving nothing but ice. Can't dig there. We poked around the rocks to the side of Windy, and buried some fuel, the small tent, and some extra gear in the rocks. Time to head down.

Finding a hiding place. 

Heading down.

May 15. Day seven- 

The push to 14. The morning followed the regular routine- Scrape frost from the inside of the tent, start some water, pack up the inside of the tent, eat some oatmeal and drink some coffee, pack up the outside, pack the sleds and packs, rope up and roll. 

Motorcycle and Squirrel passed without incident. So did the Polo fields. The hill to Windy is where things got weird. There was a huge bottleneck on the slope up to Windy, with about 30 people slowly moving up into the wind. We did our best to pass them and avoid the hidden crevasses, and managed to make it up to the turn cleanly. The few hundred feet past Windy were a little harrowing, with a hard snow traverse over a few gaping crevasses (with a sled pulling you down!), and some thin snow bridges. We made it through slowly, and rested in a nice bowl on the other side. Just a few hundred easy feet to camp now! The last few hundred feet still managed to take two hours. We found a nice snow wall, our first of the trip, modified it slightly, and bedded down. 

14k camp.

May 16. Day eight-

An easy day, we needed to run down and grab the cache at Windy. We kitted up and were moving around 1. A 45 minute jaunt down to the cache, an hour and a half walk back to camp. It was good to stretch the legs after the hard day prior. 

Foraker

May 17. Day nine, decision day-

The weather forecast was looking questionable for the next three days. It would take us at minimum four days from 14k to summit and return to base. So, if we waited until the forecast got better (how long would that be?) we may not have the time needed to go up and get down. What did the future hold? We chatted with the rangers at 14k in between a helicopter bringing in supplies, and they commented how the forecasts for the season had not been at all consistent. No one had been higher than 17k yet this year. No one was above 14k at the moment, and the general consensus around camp was one of waiting. 

Looking down from 14k.

Looking up from 14k.

The team.

 After a long hard conversation, we agreed on the safer option. We packed up and headed down, stopping at 11k to unbury a cache. It was snowing hard, and windy. Maybe we made the right call after all. We pushed down to 7,800' that night. As we walked the final few hundred feet to camp, the weather broke and we were treated to beautiful views of the lower glacier. 

Looking back from about 8k.

We slept in the small tent that night, and could not stop commenting on how few gear lofts and pockets it had. 

May 18. Day ten-

Beat feet down to the airstrip, and hope there's a plane. The morning was sunny, which was kind of a slap in the face. But, as the day wore on and we descended, it became clear we made the right call. 

The best view we got.

An approaching storm.

After three hours of walking, we rolled into Base, dug up our cache, and only waited around for twenty minutes until our plane ride out. 

Last look.

What a trip. We'll both be back. Maybe not for the West Butt in that style, but other routes. The Northwest Butt, the Cassin, the West Rib. The West Butt in a few days, and countless other trips to the range.