Entries from Mt. McKinley

Denali Dispatch June 16, 2026, 11:56pm PDT

After two days of snowfall, we woke up to a beautiful clear morning at Camp 2, 11,200’. With the clear came the cold, but after a rest day and a back carry day, the team was ready to keep moving up the mountain. We gathered for breakfast and enjoyed another round of bagels, some saying they rival New York’s best.

We prepped our sleds and packs and strapped in for our second cache day. We traded snowshoes for crampons, and a hiking pole for an ice axe. Just as Ben had planned, we would take off as soon as the sun hit us. Sure enough, at 9am, the sun peaked over the father Son Wall, splashing light on the snow like a curtain opening on the route ahead.

We first tackled Motorcycle Hill, a steep 500-foot climb, hitting a rhythm of side stepping and duck steps. Blood started flowing back into our icy toes. Slow and steady is the name of the game on these days. I relish in the long periods of silence that allow your mind to wonder—what feels like a luxury in otherwise frenetic lives, but what the mountains reliably provide in the mountains you are present; you want to be present, you must be present. The night before we embarked on the expedition, that was Allison and my In the mountains you are present; you want to be present, you must be present. The night before we embarked on the expedition, that was Allison and my quick break, we continued onto Squirrel Hill, a rolling snow field that’s adds elevation faster than it looks. There’s something moving about watching a rope team against the white snowy expanse. It’s an image of teamwork and pursuit. We took a load off at the top in the sunshine, lounging on our packs like beach chairs, diligently hydrating, fueling, and reapplying sunscreen. This sun on snow is not messing around. Do not be alarmed if we return looking like, as Mike describes a matchstick: red faces on top with pale bodies below.

We added helmets to cross the Polo Field, a snow field beneath a rocky face with risk of rock fall. At the top, we reached Windy Corner. It was, paradoxically, quite still. We ditched layers in anticipation of the furnace beyond the bend. Today really hit home the “freeze and fry” phenomenon of Denali. The heat enveloped us as we traversed the final stretch, sleds hanging on the slope beneath us as we avoided cracks that expose electric blue glacial ice.

We reached the cache at 13,500’, swiveled around and jaws literally dropped. Mount Forker rose above the clouds in exposé electric blue glacial ice. the distance, glistening. The inversion encircled the mountain. It is a magical place up here—sometimes calming, sometimes intimidating, and always awe-inspiring.  This mountain feels alive. You can hear her belly rumble from inside our tents when a distant avalanche falls. She stirs up her own weather in and brings sun and snow within minutes. It feels like we’ve been lucky so far with weather, but that luck is in no small part the strategic decisions by our stellar guide team for when and where to move. Not only that, but Ben, Mike and Avery are ready to fix a wonky rope, adjust a helmet gone awry, meet you with a fist bump at the top of the climb, cook up a mean gumbo, and at least one will crush you at a game of M-Deal. We cached a load for the next couple of days. Hudson shared his charcuterie. Devon hit Snickers bar #16 The fifth layer of sunscreen was slathered. This was the closest look yet at the West Buttress ridge and Denali’s summit. We looked up at 17’ camp in anticipation and perhaps a bit of apprehension.

It’s humbling heading back down to camp, losing all the elevation you just gained and knowing You’ll have to do it again. But the mountains are always ready to humble. You think you are strong, but you can always be stronger. It was also good mental practice. In the mountains, the highest point is also the halfway point, and focus is even more important on the way down. We practiced steady and solid footwork, plunge steps through the deep snow and shuffling on the steeps. We passed several teams heading up on our way down, exchanging fist bumps and pole taps. We descended into the cloud and retraced our steps down Squirrel and Motorcycle Hill in white fog. A peaceful silence settled around us leaving only the beat of crunching crampons in snow. Camp emerged from the fog, and we got back in time for a bit of après: electrolytes, nut mixes, and banter.

As the climb gets harder, I think about how lucky we are to be here. How lucky we are to have two feet and strong legs to raise us 3000 feet up and down in a day. I feel particularly lucky because I’m here with my big sister Allison, who has always showed me the ropes, and with my brother-in-law Jimmy, who is always ready with a warm beverage to share, a shovel to improve the vestibule, and words of encouragement for everyone on the team. But now in just six short days—or perhaps the second we roped up at base camp—this whole team has become a family. In the words of Ranger Allen, this is not an individual sport. That’s what makes mountaineering so special. We all must be strong. And our strength, of body and mind, strengthens others.

Let’s do it again tomorrow!

Climber Amanda Morrison

Wednesday, June 10, 2026 - 10:58pm PDT

Cumbre!

We got up early this morning and were the first team on the autobahn. A chilly start paid dividends throughout the rest of the day. We enjoyed the best weather you could ask for, incredible views, and a virtually empty route. Despite the perfect conditions the team is still pretty spent and has a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Thank you to everyone who helped make this possible.

Peace, Love, Gratitude.

RMI Guide Ray Holt and Team

Thursday, June 4, 2026 5:53pm PDT

Summited at 4:20 with 100% . Headed down now.

Thursday June 4, 2026 10:12pm PDT

Everyone is back at 17 Camp. 

Thursday June 5, 2026 12:24am PDT

We will start with the great news, our entire team went to the top of Denali today! We reached the point where we could go no further at approx. 4:30 pm.

Our day started on the colder side with clear skies and a mild but biting wind. We left 17 camp and began our We broke out into the warming sun at Denali pass and continued steadily up, enjoying decreasing winds and sunshine, climb across the autobahn.

By the time we had reached the Football Field, a broad basin below the final climb to the summit, we were down to only one or two layers. With the summit ridge in sight, we climbed up Pig Hill to Kahiltna Horn, breaking 20,000'. Here we were quickly reminded of our location as freezing winds had us scrambling for more clothes.

The final push to the true summit went slowly but smoothly as we topped out on the highest point in North America. Strong and cold winds made our stay on top short, but lifelong goals and aspirations were fulfilled in those fleeting moments.

We are all now back down to 17,000' camp and tucked into our sleeping bags. Our descent continues tomorrow!

Cheers - RMI Guide Seth Burns & Team

Thursday, May 28, 2026, 9:21 p.m. PDT

Day 1

Today we awoke to blue skies, so we rushed to the hangar, where we played the ‘hurry up and wait’ game. We got the text around 11 a.m. that we were flying on! We all rushed back to the hangar and lathered ourselves in sunscreen and smiles. We had moments of doubt about flying on, but climber Patti insisted we all share a piece of her Kendal Mint Bar. This famous candy delight was brought to London with the intention of being consumed before Denali. The treat is a ritual Patti practices for every climb. Alas, we are here at the airstrip, where we will sleep for the night. While enjoying our expansive views and the roars of the mountain, we enjoyed a delicious pad Thai dinner. Tomorrow, we plan to make our first big move to Camp 1!

RMI Guide Jackson Breen & Team

Bonjour from 14 Camp!

Sorry, the Canadians are taking over dispatch today. A chilly night left us happy, we slept with our toques and mitts on. We snoozed as best we could and waited for the sun to kiss our tents, giving us a minor reprieve from the chill. We wished for breakfast to be a couple of bacon and eggers but started with oatmeal before heading out for a rip up the fixed lines for some high-altitude poutine or Timbits. Travel was reasonable, as we were expecting a 50-degree sheet of ice worthy of rolling a few rocks or firing a few biscuits. Fortunately, someone spilled a couple of jugs of maple syrup on it, and travel was a bit tackier than expected.

The entire team made it to the top, reaching 16K, and when we unclipped, the clouds parted. The shamrock Sherpa thought he saw a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, and Nick was given his brief moment in the sun. We all enjoyed the stunning views from the roof of North America. After a few snacks, we headed back down a run more suited for a toboggan, back to a sunny camp. We bumped into a couple of fellow Canucks on our descent, shared a couple of “Oh hey, buds,” and the secret Canadian wave. We are now hoping for the storms to stay away, as we have a rest day tomorrow and our ultimate decision on Friday about whether to go up or head out.

We miss you all, and God save the King.

From Nikki’s Champions Group

Friday May 29, 2026 12:58am PDT

We have ascended to 17 Camp. It is cold and windy but we are all tucked in safe and sound for the night.

RMI Guide Jack Delaney & Team

Hello friends and family! This is Karen (in the yellow jacket from the latest picture) and I’ll be taking over the daily dispatch from Nikki tonight (Hi Mom and Dad!!).

We woke up to silence which usually means no/little wind. I strained my ears to hear what I call the “meeting of the minds” aka Nikki, Rosie, and Nick deciding what the plan is for the day. At around 8:30am we got the call “hots and breakfast in 10min.” IT WAS A MOVE DAY, WOOHOO!

After a nice oats and blueberry breakfast we started to pack our bags and decide what food we wanted to cache just below 14k camp. Nikki came around and asked everyone if they wanted to add the most important piece of gear, GLITTER! At around 10:45 am our bags were packed, our faces full of glitter, and we were off like a heard of racing turtles.

We climbed Motorcycle hill then Squirrel hill, then crossed the Polo Fields before a break to put our helmets on before rounding Windy Corner. To my disappointment, I didn’t see a single motorcycle, squirrel, or person riding a horse, but it’s ok because there was also a lack of wind at Windy Corner. When the sun peaked through the clouds, the views were breathtaking up there.

After 4 hours of hiking, we arrived at our cache site around 13.5k ft. After our cache, we were off, back down to camp at 11k. We took some time to chill before a dinner of creamy potato soup with chicken sausage. If weather allows, we will head to 14k camp tomorrow!

With that, I leave you with tonight’s Haiku:

Move day, move day, yay!

Rope teams so strong as we go.

Champion leads all!

Karen, RMI Guide Nikki Champion, and Team  

Well it’s safe to say no one expected that we would make 11k camp our home for 9 days but the mountain is our mistress and the weather has the final say. Finally our patience paid off and the weather was ideal for moving to 14k camp.

This morning we packed slowly, waiting for the sun to hit camp and raise the mercury to positive digits. It took a significant effort to dig up and breakdown camp since we had weathered multiple storms here. Our team wasn’t the only ones prepared to move in the good weather. Almost the entirety of camp emptied out and ascended up the mountain, either to move to 14k camp or to cache supplies to prepare for their own move in the following days. It’s safe to say we were in and out of conga lines of mountaineers all throughout the day.

When we finally rolled into camp - the team was tired but elated to finally be at our new home. The mantra was slow and steady as we built camp in the thin 14,000 foot air. The ambient air temp is chilly willy as we snuggle into our large down sleeping bags and think warm thoughts. We will not leave these cocoons until the sun hits our tents tomorrow.

Cheers,
Jack and the Team

Windy Corner

By: Joanie Mayer Hope

11,000 Camp — Denali

On a mountain in the snow

Narrow cliff and rocks below

Waits a dreamer with a heavy heavy load

Shrouded summit in the sky

In the journey is the why

In the marrow of this life is sacrifice

Chorus

There is a place called Windy Corner which few will ever see
A passage from what was to what someday may be
Up at Windy Corner, steady steps gentle strength
Silhouettes of seekers, embrace the loss of living

Windy Corner is the place

Of acquiescence & of grace

Dare to fail, live to die, alone & loved

You must give all to get there

But but you may not succeed

Reckoning of wonder, earth’s breath under your wings

Chorus

There is a place called Windy Corner which few will ever see
A passage from what was to what someday may be
Up at Windy Corner steady steps & gentle strength
Silhouettes of seekers embrace the loss of living

Bridge

If the end of life is death

What is the meaning of success?

The legacy we leave

The sparks of joy we manifest?

The pain we heal?

The love we feel?

Adventures breached

Or summits reached?

The courage to jump fully in

Be naked in our humanness

Final Chorus

Up at Windy Corner steady steps & gentle strength
Silhouettes of seekers embrace the loss of living

Tonight’s haiku brought to you by Jaylynn:

Snow wind clouds and more

Forever stuck at camp 2 

Please let us leave soon

This morning we woke up more optimistic, there was no snow falling from the sky, and the tents were quieter than past mornings As the stoves were rolling, we paid attention to the winds up high. It was obvious that snow was moving, so we waited to see how things continued. Would the winds die down, or continue? As we ate our oatmeal the winds only continued, we continued to wait and watch. By noon, the winds still hadn't backed off, and our call for the day became obvious. Yet another weather day at 11 camp.

We settled into our tents for the afternoon, played some more card games and took some naps until our big evening of pizza!

Tomorrow we shall try again to carry!

RMI Guide Nikki Champion & Team