Entries from Mt. McKinley

Tuesday, June 25, 2024 - 10:27 pm PT

Reflection from summit day

14,000’ Camp

Staring At The Headwall. Our Team Summited Denali today! I did not. I take no credit for their achievement, having been a hindrance at best, but I’ve come to love these people and I am inspired by their triumph. Unless you’ve been here, you cannot understand the magnitude of their accomplishment. Logistical. Physical. Emotional. Each member of our team may remember when my quest came to an end on what is arguably the Crux of the West Buttress Route. My anguished cry when my knee hit the ice of the bergschrund and I instantly knew that I had denied myself the Summit. But I pushed on, climbed the fixed ropes of The Headwall, and descended with the team back to our 14,000’ camp. Then, two days later, full of optimism and with a taped up knee, I climbed The Headwall again, plus a little more, as our team pushed for the highest camp. Why? How can we hold the knowledge that something is impossible, it cannot be done, while at the same time holding the conflicting conviction that we can do anything if we just keep striving in the face of insurmountable challenges? Each of you reading this has met your own Denali and you know the answer. That’s just Life. So while I take no credit for their achievements, having been a hindrance at best, I have come to love people and I am inspired by their triumphs. Keep climbing your Headwalls, they are the only paths to your Summits.

RMI Climber Kris Reitz

Tuesday, June 25, 2024 - 11:11 pm PT

Final dispatch: 
Waking up this morning, I’m filled with an intense sense of wonder. 

“Did we really pull that off?”
The memories of the day before play in mind. The views, the wind, the struggle, the summit.

“Hey team, it’s time to wake up,” our guide Seth rouses us, “we’re gonna try and get out of here around 10:00am.”

I check my watch. It’s just after 8:00. I consider getting up. The ache of the day before confirms that it all wasn’t just a dream. It pulsates through my body, intensified by the lack of oxygen available to us at 17200ft. 

Seth asks how we feel, my tent mate Chris replies: “I feel like I climbed a 20000ft mountain.”  I laugh, still comfortably in my sleeping bag. 

We begin slowly packing the randomly strewn about items that we didn’t care to pack after our 12 hour summit day. 

Not much later, we’re on the move again. Our packs are heavy again, a change from the light summit packs we grew accustomed to yesterday. We say our final goodbyes to the friends we made during our brief stay and begin the walk to the narrow balance beam that is the West Buttress I carefully scramble through the granite boulders that line the upper ridge, to my left and right, 3000ft drop offs. We waltz secured by our rope and fixed protection put in long ago. The dance is lento. Each move is precise and requires our complete focus. 

Clip, reclip. Clip, reclip. Check the rope isn’t getting caught in the feet of the person in front of you. Clip, reclip. Make a careful move through an awkward position. Clip, reclip. Glance at Foraker or Hunter. Clip, reclip. Finally, we make it through without incident, arriving to the 2000ft, 50° fixed lines.

We slide down carefully. The rope is wrapped  around our arms like a cobra squeezing its prey. We make good progress, arriving to the bergschrund much faster than it took us to area of the route. As we continue downward, Chris and I share a laugh as we remember we’re still wearing our long underwear. We make it back to the 14200ft camp where we pause for a while, giving Chris and I the chance to free ourselves from the heat prison surrounding our legs, much to the humour of the rest of our team. 

After sorting out the gear we stashed here  before heading up, (struggling to figure out how on earth we’d get it into our already full packs), we start marching downward again. We pass sights we remember only in an upward sense. They take on a different feeling, knowing that  for some of us, this may be the last time we see them. Windy corner, Thunder ridge, the Peters glacier. All deeply beautiful. 

We arrive into the ghost town that is 11000ft camp, with most of the climbers who would populate this place either higher on the mountain, or long gone, returned to civilization Our stay here won’t be long. We plan to move again once the glacier refreezes. Even still, we make set the nylon homes that have housed us for the last 14 nights, one final time. 

As we eat our last dinner on the mountain, bagels with salmon and cream cheese, a feeling of sadness begins to creep over us. 

In a strange way, as we reminisce about having ate an ungodly amount of quesadillas, or how badly we smell, or funny encounters we had with other climbers en route, it begins to set in this journey is nearing its end.
Soon, all of these moments will become memories. Our mistakes, funny stories. Our hardships, that which built our character. Our triumphs, our legacies. 

As we settle into our down bags one final time, the evening air beginning to become cold, an unexplainable emotion begins to emerge. The one perhaps felt when you realize you’re in a memory. Gratitude? Thankfulness? Satisfaction?
Perhaps some things in life are better left unanalyzed. 

Thank you, Denali. You have been so, so kind. 

RMI Climber Thomas Goossen

Tuesday, June 25, 2024 - 9:33 pm PT

A little bit of a tough one for us. We geared up and started climbing the "autobahn" toward Denali Pass. The team was handling the terrain well but a cold wind got going and our sense was that it was strengthening. We turned at 17,800ft and the wind died before we'd reached camp. It likely would have worked for climbing after all. We turned the day into a rest/acclimatization day and we'll give the summit another try tomorrow. 

Best Regards,

RMI Guide Dave Hahn 

Tuesday, June 25, 2024 - 1:27 pm PT

Climbing mountains is hard. Ya that’s obvious, but I’m not only talking about the effort while on the mountain. Whether or not you make it to the summit there’s countless hours spent training, researching, anxiously thinking about what might be. Time spent away from friends and family because “ I’m going to go climb a mountain” and of course the countless question that follow from there. It’s hard to explain though, to those that don’t come out to these wild places to suffer so beautifully. To be trying to do perhaps the hardest thing we’ve ever done in the most remote and beautiful places in the world. It’s so uniquely vulnerable. We do it because we have to, or else we’d be spending those hours and days daydreaming of what could be. We have to find out for ourselves what it’s like and experience a grounding that nothing else can give you.

We summitted Denali, the highest peak in North America, at around 6:20 PM June 24. It was a beautiful day with light, but bitter, winds and clouds all around us but never above us. It was amazing. It was everything we had been working and hoping for over the past 13 days on the darn thing. We rest up tonight, an easier task than most days, and start our long descent back to where it all started 14 days ago, Basecamp.

Thanks to all the friends and family that might not quite understand why, but instead understand that we have to. None of this is possible without that support.

RMI Guide Dominic Cifelli

17,200 ft sure feels good! We pulled out of 14,000' at 10 AM. It snowed a few inches in the night but by morning the clouds were dropping down. We had a clear shot of the West Buttress and the South Summit. Our packs were a good deal heavier than when we carried. Today was tough climbing but the entire team did quite well. We reached our new home in 6.5 hours and set to building camp. Such work is tough enough, but it was double tough in the thin air. Eventually we had tents to take shelter in snd and a hot dinner out on the patio. We talked over the challenges we are likely to face going for the top tomorrow. It was a treat to greet Dominic Cifelli's triumphant team as they rolled back into camp -about when we were buttoning things up for the evening.  Fingers crossed for one more perfect day. 

Best,

RMI Guides Dave, Sam, Sam and Nick

Monday, June 24, 2024 - 12:05 am PT

We woke up this morning to a blue bird day and a quiet chill in the air. It was cold, crisp, windless; perfect weather for a trip up to high camp. People tend to think we stage our summit bid from high camp and, in a sense, we do, but the real waiting game happens at 14,000' Camp. It’s where you wait for the summit weather to align and today the door was wide open. We made our way up the headwall and the fixed lines for our second run and we were pros this time. Dialing in the techniques and tactics we learned on the previous run through. The heavier packs were noticeable on the legs and the heat of the day was noticeable on our dry throats but on we went. When we finally crested onto the namesake “ West Buttress” of the route. The sun gave way to cloud and the heat to snow. We got glimpses of the 360 views that this part of the route offers but never the full scene. On we pressed to the high camp of Denali at a height of 17,200 ft.

We set up shop, ate our meals, and are trying to recover for a summit push tomorrow morning. Tomorrow will be undoubtedly the hardest we’ve had on the mountain, and for many the hardest physical effort we’ve ever tried. The team can do it though. We’ve got this.

Wish us luck!!

RMI Guide Dominic Cifelli

Sunday, June 23, 2024 - 9:33 pm PT

There seemed to be general agreement that last night's sleep was a good one. That could mean that we are getting acclimatized to 14,000'. But it could also mean we were justifiably tired after yesterday's carry. Today was easy, in any case. We ate, took naps and sorted gear for the big move up tomorrow. It was calm and sunny through the morning, but the afternoon clouded up and light snow started falling. It still doesn't count as a storm though.

We just need a couple more good days. 

Best Regards,

RMI Guides Dave Hahn, Sam Hoffman, Sam Marjerison & Nick Sinipius 

Sunday, June 23, 2024 - 10:14 am PT

Hello loyal readers,

This is our final dispatch. Yesterday we woke at midnight at the base of Ski Hill. A light breeze rattled our tents but the skies were clear. It was our fastest break down of tents and packing all trip. Motivation ran high with the thought of flying off the glacier. A slight refreeze of the glacier made for smooth walking pulling our heavy sleds. Everything was quite and still. A final push up hill weaving around crevasses brought us to a sleepy basecamp...it was 4am. Check-in for our flight wasn't till 7am, so we pulled out our sleeping pads and bags and took a nap. The lower airstrip was a bit too bumpy so we walked to the upper airstrip and by 9:20 am the planes landed and we were swept off the mountain we spent 19 days climbing up and down. A 40 minute flight dumped us off in civilization. Just like that we no longer needed to travel with all our belongings on our back. No longer did we need to poop in a bucket. No longer did we need to melt snow for water. We had all those amenities at our finger tips. It's been a fantastic journey. Everyone learned something new about themselves and learned that they can endure so much. It's been a privilege to be apart of this team. 

Thank you for following along and for all the support,

RMI Guide Hannah Smith and Team

PC: Hannah Smith

Saturday, June 22, 2024 - 10:23 PM PT

Best day of the trip (so far)! Certainly as far as weather goes, this was a sweet day clear and cloudless at the start, calm and sunny throughout. But also, as far as climbing goes, this was the best. We left 14K at 9:30 AM, which was plenty cool as we were still in shadow.  We made steady progress up the steep glacial slopes -breaking a few people's personal altitude records in the process. And then we tackled the steeper ice of the fixed rope section. Topping out the ropes at 16,200 ft in perfect weather (basically we had light sweaters on) it was hard to resist forging on. We went another 90 minutes up the crest of the spectacular West Buttress, passing Washburn's Thumb, we reached 16,800 ft. There we dug a raven-proof cache and left our supplies. Our descent was careful but steady. We reached our 14K camp at 6:10 PM. We got in a good dinner before the sun went behind the mountain at 9 pm. Tomorrow we'll rest.

Best,

RMI Guide Dave Hahn

Saturday, June 22, 2024 - 6:05 PM PT

Rest day.  Rest days at 14,000ft mean a slow start with little movement until the glorious sun illuminates our tents making for more hospitable temps.  With the sun comes the wafting smell of hot blue berry pancakes that Nicole is frying up. That coupled with the need for hot coffee, pulls us from our warm bags and we step out into a day that can only be described as blue bird. After many rounds of coffee and pancakes, we gear up for a short walk to “The Edge of the World” an overlook just outside of camp with views some +6000’ down to the lower Kahiltna. This short excursion provides us with a chance to stretch our legs and begin to digest the loaf of bread each of us just consumed.  The rest of the day is filled with more of its name sake as we prepare to move higher up on the mountain. 

- RMI Guide Seth Burns and team

First thing this morning it looked a little windy up on the West Buttress. That was enough to switch our program to a rest day at 14,000. Of course, the wind died down and neighboring teams had no trouble climbing today, but we were happy to rest. Clouds came and went during the day and there were a few snowflakes but overall, the good weather is sticking with us.

Tomorrow will work just fine for that carry.  

Best Regards,

The RMI Guides & Team