Friday, June 19, 2009

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Denali: tightrope, remodeling, & corniced ridges

--Tightrope--

If you are on a tightrope, you don’t sneeze. If you are taking a break on an awkward rock with a steep snow slope next to you, just above the headwall at 16,210 ft elevation, you try to find an acceptable spot for your 65 lb pack where it won’t slide down the mountain or take you out should a gust of wind appear. Then comes the gentle (and tricky) part where you slowly work yourself a little lower on the slope (easier than working the pack higher), balance your pack on your right knee, and thread your arm through the strap. Next you slowly wiggle the heavy pack around to your back, thread your next arm in place, tighten the waistbelt as tight as you can get it (especially if you happen to have a down coat on), and you’re back ready to continue the climb. Once your four teammates have done the same, you head upwards, hoping it won’t really take many hours to go the next 1,000 vertical feet (it will).

--Remodeling--

Remodeling is fun. The previous occupants, after all, didn’t have just your taste, or your size of group, or wind coming from the same direction. Though sometimes they did have the good sense to set up a nicely sheltered CMC (Clean Mountain Can) alcove. Generally you move into a camp, decide which walls to use as starters, and then change things up. At one camp, that may mean that you get the snow saw and shovel out and start quarrying snow blocks to fill a doorway, plug some holes, and increase the height of the protecting snow walls. At another camp, that may mean that you decide to add a doorway between adjacent campsites, turn a wall 90 degrees to more closely hug your tent, or angle and relocate a given wall to direct the wind, moving the wall block by block. If you have a little extra time, you can add a kitchen too. At the highest camp, you may decide to build more functional protection from the wind; some less-than-perfect snow chunks will do the job. We were really quite lucky with respect to the winds at our camps, with the breeziest day being one of our rest days at 17 camp.

--Corniced ridges--

There were many spectacular parts to the climb. Flying past dark rock spires in Little Switzerland on the way in; seeing snow ridges above you as you snuck just over a pass. Moving along the broad and long Kahiltna glacier just as the sun dipped below a mountain. Looking back at your team placed so evenly on the rope, moving up the first steep section of Motorcycle hill, the walled fortress of Camp 11k in the background. Clouds engulfing the lower valleys up to almost your toes. Seeing the alpenglow on Mt. Hunter from 14 camp after a long day. Turning your view around for the first time on the ridge above 16,2 to see the fullness and beauty of the West Buttress. Cresting Denali Pass to see the other side of the Alaska range opening up, hunkering behind black rocks for shelter from the wind. Seeing the pink rays of sunset on distant mountains coming down to Camp 9.5k.

Though it was the very very last section of the climb that was the most spectacular. It had been a long time since beginning the climb late that morning. It was maybe 7pm, 7:30. I had cycled between feeling extremely strong around 18,000 and 19,000 feet to being extremely slow going up pig hill. First Jim and Cindy had turned around just below Denali Pass, turned by altitude and the good sense to be conservative on this big mountain. We had shortened the rope to fit three, and added their emergency supplies to our backpacks. Then, after climbing up to the pass and yet another hour above the pass, Pete had appeared at our rest stop with a white tipped nose and cheek. This day was no day for exposed skin; it was time for descent for another of our team. Even higher on the mountain, Jaroslaw and I decided that, given the improved weather, it was safe enough to set an anchor and leave one of our packs (mine) and the rope behind for the last 'hour' (or more) left in the climb. Was the top of pig hill the tippy top (as I had hoped for in my mind)? No. But that is when the summit ridge revealed itself.

A ridge that is beautiful and frightening at the same time. One that is fun in ideal weather conditions, but one that demands your attention to footwork, especially given that it is above 20,000 feet and that you’ve been climbing for hours today and weeks prior (well, 10 days in our case). The cornices ran on one side for the first part of the ridge (small ones), and on the other side for the second part (big ones). Looking to the right on the way up, the mountain shot down thousands and thousands of feet almost immediately. Zero wind is the kind of weather condition you want to have for that ridge. And that is just what we had. Step by step, focusing your attention at the task at hand, glad that the ridge did not gain significant altitude, but instead let you catch your breath and build your anticipation. The sun was getting lower in the sky, bringing a golden and shadowed and intense view to all the mountains around Denali. And then we reached the end of that spectacular ridge just around 8:20pm. Jaroslaw and I had made it to the top!