The Alaska Range draws hundreds of climbers every year. Guarded by Foraker, a seldom climbed 17K ft peak, and by Mt. Hunter, the most difficult 14er in North America, Denali, "The Big One", is without a doubt (and for well-deserved reasons,) the main climbing goal of intrepid mountaineers from all over the globe. Dozens of other smaller, but no less beautiful peaks, are overseen by most of those whose dreams of the altitude are set on reaching the roof of the North America continent. Right at the start of their journey, across from the landing at the South East Fork of the Kahiltna Glacier, lies Mount Frances, a satellite at the very terminus of Denali's South Buttress. This year, climber Brian Phillips, came with his mind set on Alpine Climbing in the Range; a good plan to tackle fun, full body climbing involving the implementation of the techniques practiced over the year of ice, snow and rock climbing. With our current conditions and weather forecast last week, we decided to put our eyes on the South West Ridge of Frances. An objective that can be done in a long full day of climbing. After all, we had one week to climb (another of the beautiful things of Alpine Climbing in Alaska, is that one doesn't need to plan for an entire month, and 7-10 days allow for a great deal of fun!!!) Upon landing on the glacier, we started our decked-out camp. When you know you're constructing your home for a full week, it better be good! Beyond fortified walls around our flattened tent platforms, making a decent kitchen, with snow benches to sit, eat and socialize on is key. A good two hours of digging, and our crafted living space was ready to be enjoyed. We didn't get too comfortable that very first night, as the forecast, unlike what the predictions said, was too good to let go, and after early bed, we woke ready for action. The SW Ridge of Frances is a moderate route that involves steep snow climbing, only separated by pitches of fine, moderate rock climbing. While none of the steps are very difficult, it is very sustained, and for hours on end you are always "game on" mode. An early start granted frozen snow to move on on the lower part of the mountain, which made us gain progress fast. Soon enough we'd be climbing rocks, and without realizing, the alternation of both terrains, was the constant for the day. Plotting along, the early evening would come, and high on the route, we could keep an eye at the Denali Base Camp, and the many climbers that eventually circumnavigated us, at ground level, totally unaware other human beings were up there. We tackled the last rock pitches as the sun wanted to dip behind the horizon, but in the "Land of Midnight Sun" it never would. We continued the progress now towards the summit, on the frozen ridge that connects the false one to the true one, tip toeing around cornices, a couple crevasses and long ice cliffs beneath us. It was dinner time when we got to the top, and even though we knew that descending the East Ridge was a mere two hours back to the comfort of our Base Camp, we stuck to the plan of bivouac on top. How special could it be to see the alpenglow of both sunset and sunrise over Hunter, Foraker and Denali? It was almost cloudless, and we had carried a small bivi tent, sleeping bags and a stove anyways. So we stayed. Tired but accomplished and cold but warm inside, the night blended with the day, and sooner than we noticed, the bright sun was again over us and now, time to head back down before the snow softened further. The East Ridge, our descent route, had been climbed several times the previous week, even a ski descent, so with a good track, we were back at our camp in a mere two hours. We had gone up and down, in style, fully climbing up a peak and we were proud of it! Alpine Climbing in Alaska at its best. RMI Guide Elias de Andres Martos