There’s an expectation, totally my own, that the words that I write about places are supposed to be equal to the places themselves. A theory that if this silly primate body I wander around in is barely able, maybe the words it strings together can compensate for sunburnable flesh and blistery toes. Ironically and obviously, it goes without saying that it’s hard to fulfill. Being a big mountain, certainly the largest I’ve ever sought to play on, Denali puts extra weight on that wish.
Grant Domer and I fly north to Anchorage on May 17th. A short trip to Talkeetna, a flight onto the Kahiltna, and we’ll be wandering up the West Buttress until we fly back to Seattle on June 17th. Grant’s been thinking of this trip since the summer of 2011, when we skied Mt. Baker.
He envisioned building up to this climb two years later. At the time, it seemed about a lifetime and bunch of money I didn’t have into the future. Occasionally the thought would play through my head, but it didn’t feel serious–I’d wandered back to Montana and working through the summer didn’t leave much time for getting out on the volcanos.
A phone call this last December got me back in the game. Grant was still on the chase, as excited as that climb a few years back. Plane tickets were the commitment to launch a several month scramble (on my part) to catch up. Now, we’re less than three weeks away from flying north, and here’s the first part of some reflections on the process.
Most the climbing I’ve done in Glacier Park has been guided by J. Gordon Edwards’ quirky classic, <u>A Climber’s Guide to Glacier National Park</u>. Despite Grant’s guidance and general idea about what we were getting into, I was looking for a guidebook. Colby Coombs’ guide to the West Buttress has awesome route information and a solid section on gear to bring. There’s a lot of time devoted to common ailments from altitude and cold, both bountiful on Denali.
To add to the guidebook, there’s required reading to even get your permit from the Park Service. In the PDF is a code necessary for registration. I read through all of Wildsnow’s blog posts related to their trip from 2010 to get a more comprehensive idea of skiing the thing. Going on a tip from my father, I read an account of the first winter ascent of Denali, -148 Degrees.
Most of the official tone talks of self sufficiency and preparation. Nothing promises an easy climb. Within the first few days of their trip, the winter ascent lost a member to a crevasse fall. The accident reporting from Denali last year does not flinch at the number of dead climbers. Between the vertical relief (13,000ft) between base camp and the summit, the latitude decreasing oxygen and making the mountain feel higher (more along the lines of 23,000ft near the Equator), and the timing of our trip seeing more spring weather, a serious tone is valid.
Still, I really enjoyed the moments of levity in what I read. These are mountaineers after all. A passage from Coombs:
“Perhaps the oddest animal encounter was with a red squirrel begging for food at 12,500ft. This is no less than 15 miles and over 10,000ft in elevation from the nearest spruce grove. Did the little mammal arrive on the glacier in someone’s duffel in a gorp-induced coma?”
Beyond all that I’ve learned on my own, I’ve been once again reminded of why mountain communities are the best ones. Conversations about my spring plans, once I mention Denali, have become a great outpouring of support for our trip. People have offered me their expedition weight long johns, mentioned friends who went before, connected through email to folks with experience, offered gear hookups, and in the case of my sponsors, pulled out all the stops to help with gear. In the piles of details and accumulating gear, the generosity of the people in my life is still the largest heap in sight. Thank you.
A few worthy specifics:
-To Grant. For spearheading this, helping with gear, and especially the booties. Arabianistas!
-To the family. To Mom and Dad for encouraging me, starting me on this path, and enduring the worry. To my grandparents for their support and employment. To my uncles for their words of wisdom about avoiding chaffing and offers of loaned gear.
-Massive thanks to Woody Dixon and Mountain Equipment for being onboard with the trip from the beginning. His help with clothing, equipment, and a new sleepsack made the difference between a cost prohibitive trip and a possible one.
-Thanks to Scott Andrus, Sam Caylor, and Rowen Tych at ON3P for keeping me in skis. The 186 Vicik Tours that I just mounted up will be perfect for spring assaults and slogging up the Kahiltna.
-Green thanks to SDot for transporting us in AK. Super stoked to see you.