Denali Trip Report

Micah applied for the "Live Your Dream Grant" for his Denali trip through the American Alpine Club, and he was one of the recipients for our region. He was awarded enough to pay for a plane ticket and a few other expenses, and the grant was greatly appreciated. In return for the grant, Micah had to submit a trip report to the American Alpine Club. Unless you are an alpinist yourself, it is hard to imagine what is involved in a Denali ascent, so I decided to post his trip report to my blog (with his permission). 

I am proud of Micah for setting this goal and sticking with it even though it meant many hours of training each week on top of his already busy schedule. He made sure that his training had very little impact on his time with me and the kids as he woke up early before work to train, and he scheduled his long weekend runs around the kids' nap time. Some day, when the kids are a bit older and can comprehend what it means to climb a 20,310 foot peak (the highest in North America), they will be very proud of him as well.

When I was 18 I saw Denali off in the distance for the first time while on a NOLS Alaska Mountaineering trip, and my dream to climb the mountain was born.  After the course I asked one of the instructors, a young Alaskan native who had yet to climb Denali, if she was looking forward to summiting while instructing a NOLS trip.  She responded that the mountain meant too much to her to climb it without the company of good friends and on her own terms.  Her notion of respect for the mountain inspired me to decide that, when I got my shot at Denali someday, I wanted to climb it via a proud route – one that paid respect to the mountain and one that made the most of realizing a dream.

Fifteen years later I found myself balancing a demanding job and a busy family life with 2-year-old triplets, and the idea of climbing Denali began to feel more like a pipe dream.  Yet through the years I had continued to climb and build trad, big wall, ice and alpine climbing skills that, in combination, had me at a point where I was ready to take on a technical route on Denali. But I was now facing a different kind of challenge: Balancing my profession and my family life with trying to realize a long-time dream and my passion to climb.

In December 2014 my friend Mark and I committed to climbing Denali in June 2015 with the hope of ascending the famed Cassin Ridge.  We felt we were up to the technical challenges of the route, but we knew we’d need to train hard to be able to endure three full days on the route.  I’d heard about the coaching programs offered by Skyward Mountaineering and Mark and I decided some professional guidance was worth the money, so we committed to it.  The four months of training that Steve House laid out for us was demanding and at times pretty brutal.  At the start of June, after about 600 miles and 100,000 feet of elevation gain/loss of running and pack carries (not to mention plenty of weight lifting and climbing), I felt the fittest I’d been in many years and ready for Denali.

The period of time between the day before I left for Denali to the day I returned home has honestly been one of the wildest rides of my life.  The range of events and emotions I experienced in that period has only been second to having three children brought into my life at once.

The day before we left was my kids’ second birthday.  It's amazing where they are now given that they each started off life with six weeks to two months in the NICU.  Despite my excitement for climbing Denali, walking out the door and heading to the airport the day after their birthday was so much harder than I thought it would be.

We had 18 glacier days planned for our trip, which was as much as I could afford vacation and family-wise.  We got held up in Talkeetna for the first three days because it was dumping snow on the mountain.  During that period my son had a health problem manifest that very quickly led to a Leukemia diagnosis, but shortly thereafter the diagnosis was changed to a benign auto-immune disorder.  The day that Jack received the Leukemia diagnosis was the worst of day of my life as I spent the evening and night trying to come to grips with that would mean for his life.  I booked a flight home as soon as possible. Fortunately, we got a better prognosis the following day and my wife was incredibly supportive of me continuing on with the trip after we got this much better news.  Thankfully most of this occurred while we were in Talkeetna waiting for the weather to improve and we could communicate easily, rather than while we were deep into the Alaska range.

We flew into Kahiltna Base Camp four days after arriving in Talkneeta with amazing weather.  However, our 18 glacier days had now become 15. That amazing weather was forecasted to persist for a long time, and it did.  On day one we waited until the evening and skied the ~5.5 miles to 7800 camp.  This was my second trip to the Kahiltna and I was psyched to be back, loving every moment of the trip to 7800 camp.  On day two we carried to 11k camp and on day three we moved up.  Day four was a quick trip to just past Windy Corner where we cached some gear.  We enjoyed a fun and quick ski back down to 11k camp that night.  Finally, on day five, we moved up to 14k camp and started really putting our minds toward the task of climbing the route.  The weather was amazing and we both felt great.  Mark was adamant we move at a conservative pace each day to conserve energy and it worked – we were both never tired or sore from any of the carries and we arrived at 14k camp fresh and full of energy. 

Day 1 leaving Kahiltna Base Camp 

Day 1 at 7800 camp

Day 3 at 11k camp

Day 6 at 14k camp

We acclimated to 16700 on the West Buttress on day six, and we rested on day seven.  On day eight we planned to acclimate higher on the Buttress, possibly to the summit, and we were looking at another good forecast.  When we hit Denali Pass at 18200 that day, though, we both felt headaches coming on so we decided we’d ascend 500 feet at a time and re-evaluate. Before we knew it we were at the Football Field at 19200 and, with the gift of continuing perfect weather, we went on to the summit.  We made it there in seven hours and some odd minutes.  It was hard moving from Denali Pass on up, but we felt great and the weather couldn’t have been better – it was warm and there was almost no wind!  Mark and I were glad to have summited and to have it go as well as it did, but we knew that this summit was just the tune up for the main event.  Now we hoped the good weather would persist.

Day 8 view of Denali at 17k

Day 8 on top of Denali via the West Buttress

On the way down from the summit it started to snow and this turned out to signify the end of the awesome weather and the start of the unstable (but still warm) weather.  We rested on day nine and talked with our meteorologist about the forecast (we’d hired Chris Tomer out of Denver).  He said the all-day-long blue skies were over and we should expect afternoon snow squalls and low visibility until an approaching large low-pressure system hit.  If we didn't want to get trapped by that we'd have to get back to Kahiltna base camp two days earlier than planned.  

So, there we were, looking at launching for the Cassin on day 10 of what was now only 13 glacier days.  We contemplated the idea and the likelihood of being able to approach, climb the route, and return to base camp to fly out in four days with the current unstable weather and low visibility and no margin on the back end due to the approaching storm. We both agreed we couldn't afford to get stuck in the range because of the storm as we needed to get back to our families and jobs.

Nonetheless, we decided we'd launch for the route in the afternoon of day 10 and see how things went with the weather.  If the weather seemed like it was working in our favor then we’d go for it.  One rest day removed from our Buttress summit acclimatization was not ideal, but we felt remarkably good – the four months of hard training was working well for us.  Our plan was to head to the West Rib Cutoff and down the Rib (we'd been talked out of the Seattle Ramp by several rangers and other climbers who'd just done it).  As we moved closer to the Cutoff the clouds started to envelope us.  After making it to the cutoff we waited a while, and with no improvement in conditions we decided to bivy there and wait for better visibility.  The following morning we could see up the mountain but everything below us was socked in.  At this point we were at day 11 of 13 and we felt our chance of a legitimate attempt on the Cassin had just slipped away.

Day 10 Bivy at the West Rib Cutoff

We pondered our options given our current situation and decided we’d head up the Upper West Rib.  Once we made that decision, we moved with the lightness of making a wise choice in the mountains, but the weight of knowing we wouldn’t be climbing our objective.  It’s a feeling I’ve felt before – knowing I’ve prepared mentally and physically for a climb but wouldn’t be getting the ascent – and it wasn’t any more welcomed this time around.  We made good time up the Rib and we were somewhat surprised by how easy the route felt. We summited again, then descended to 17k camp and spent the night there.  We were tired from the day, thankful for another summit via a great route, but deep down we were sad that we didn’t get the Cassin.

Day 11 climbing up the West Rib

Day 11 on top of Denali via the West Rib

On day 12 we descended to 14k, rested during the day, packed up and left early in the morning on day 13, and then flew out late-morning on day 13. The storm hit the evening of day 14 and I later learned that TAT didn't fly again until after our scheduled flight out of Anchorage.  Had we gotten stuck by the storm we would have missed our return flights home. That offered me some consolation, but it also left me wondering what could have been if we’d gone for it.

Day 12 resting during the ski down

Day 13 on the plane about to leave the glacier 

I've analyzed our decisions quite a bit since leaving.  The uncertainty we had in our ability to climb the route in three days with less than ideal weather and the uncertainty we had in the storm's arrival and strength I think is due to our general lack of climbing and weather experience in Alaska.  This led us to be conservative decision-wise and it meant our shrunken time window wasn't enough.

All said and done, though, I believe we had a trip many would kill for.  We had two summits in 13 days with outstanding weather for the first eight days, and pretty good weather for the remainder.  I don't think that happens very often on Denali.  I went to the mountain one person and I came back another as I endured both mental and physical challenges with the mountain itself, but also the emotional torment of being away from my family during my son’s health issues.  The trip cemented my desire to adventure in the alpine, but it also affirmed that that desire is secondary to my family and my relationships.