Entries from Mt. McKinley

The Four Day Climb Led by RMI Guides Brent Okita and Roland Scott reached the summit of Mt. Rainier early this morning. Brent Okita reported a beautiful day on the summit with great route conditions. The team is on the descent and will be back at Rainier Basecamp this afternoon to celebrate. 

Congratulations Team! 

Tuesday, July 2, 2024 - 8:15 am PT

So the plan was to walk out in the early morning with the glacier surface frozen up nice and firm. Good plan. But it didn’t freeze.  We had a wet snowstorm from 11 PM  until 6 AM at our final camp… mostly it just preserved the slush. And then we were socked in with cloud until midday.  But when the clouds lifted, we broke records taking down camp and stretching out the rope teams. We were moving at 1PM and then stopped at 1:01 PM figuring out the first crevasse crossing. There were a few thousand more to figure out. Our final day took about six hours and included a couple dozen snowshoed feet and legs going into crevasses, but thankfully no bodies.  And magically, as we pulled up the final hill, the weather cleared and two beautiful K2 Otters glided in to the snow strip. We loaded planes and were off deck by 8 PM. There wasn’t much time for gear sorting back in Talkeetna. But there turned out to be time for Mountain High Pizza Pie and the Fairview Inn.  The team still has a couple of high altitude hacks, some tired legs and some sunburned faces, but those faces were smiling last night as we settled into the Swiss Alaska Inn. 

No summit… it is true.  But we tried.

Best Regards

RMI Guides Dave Hahn, Sam Hoffman, Sam Marjerison, Nick Sinapius

PC: Dave Hahn

Sunday, June 30, 2024 - 10:16 pm PT

It was cold at 14,000' this morning because we didn't wait for the sun to get around the mountain. But the cold was nowhere near what we'd experienced up high. We ate breakfast, packed and got on our way. Back to pulling sleds.  We pulled them around Windy Corner, through the Polo Field, down Squirrel and Motorcycle Hills. Down at 11K, we dug up the cache of gear and made our switch to snowshoes. It was a treat to be the only team left on the lower mountain (there are perhaps five or six teams still above us). It was pretty easy going down the Kahiltna Glacier until we reached Ski Hill where the combination of mushy snow and crevasses made things less fun. Even so we made good time reaching 8,000'. We set up camp as clouds rolled in from above and below. Our hope is to have things freeze up in the night to make for safer and easier travel, but with cloud cover, that doesn't always happen. We'll see what we get. Basecamp is potentially just four hours away. 

Best Regards, 

RMI Guide Dave Hahn

PC: Dave Hahn

Saturday, June 29, 2024 - 10:10 pm PT

Life is easier at 14,000 ft.  It was still a little breezy and cold this morning as we packed up at 17K.  It still looked like the wind was howling up above. But of course we had our eyes on a dignified retreat. And a careful one. There were quite a few tricky steps to manage on the descent of the West Buttress. It was a relief to have the fixed rope section completed without incident. We rolled into 14,000' Camp at 5PM and had an easy evening in the sunshine. Yes, we are still a long way up a mountain, but everything is more friendly down in the thicker air.  We'll try for 8,000 ft for tomorrow night.

Best Regards, 

RMI Guide Dave Hahn

The day started out calm, so we started out climbing. We left high camp at 8:30. The day was slightly warmer than the last few, but there was less sun, so it didn't really feel all that warm. We had most of our clothing on for the 2.5-hour journey to Denali Pass.  It was a little breezier at the pass, so we didn't rest long there. We got into significant wind and clouds in the next hour pushing up the steep rolls to Zebra Rocks. Finally, we had to call it quits at around 18,850 ft.  Storm conditions stayed with us all the way back to high camp. It was a slow descent because of that and some justifiably tired legs.

We were in camp by 6 PM and into the shelter of the tents shortly after.  We gave it a good go but got turned by some tough conditions. That happens. We'll begin our descent tomorrow. Some tough and careful climbing is still to come. 

Best,

RMI Guides Dave Hahn, Sam Marjerison, Sam Hoffman, Nick Sinapius & Team 

It was a windy night at high camp, followed by a windy day. More importantly, it was still too windy up on Denali's South Peak for us to make an attempt. Low level clouds have come in, obscuring our views of many of the surrounding mountains. We still have hope for improved conditions tomorrow, but that will likely be our last shot at the top. Given all that, the team has stayed upbeat and excited for a chance to climb.

Best Regards,

RMI Guide Dave Hahn & Team

Wednesday, June 27, 2024 - 9:58 pm PT

Still in a holding pattern at 17,000 ft. There were obvious strong winds blowing on our climbing route first thing today. We watched and waited for calming.  It did die down a little at midday -too late for climbing- but then the winds roared back to life in the afternoon.  We napped, read and generally passed the time.  We can walk about a hundred feet from camp to a tremendous view of half of Alaska. The team is hanging in and hoping for a shot.

Best,

RMI Guide Dave Hahn

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