Entries from Mt. McKinley

Looking back on Denali

The glacial environment presents a curious juxtaposition. At times, we witness a frozen, static world where quietude and stillness exist - perhaps much like they are found in the dark of a cave or the bottom of a cold lake. Yet, here they present in such luminous expanses that it boggles the mind and shrivels the self. From the disturbed skyline, pierced by menhirs and minarets, to the inland sea of ice filling the valley floors - and all the intermediate seracs layered and bunted on the surrounding megaliths - the scenery feels utterly immobile and still. Until, quite suddenly, the illusion is shattered in a violent display of force. In an instant there is motion, seen before it’s heard, a blur of ice and rock come free and already flaunting its veil of pulverized and sublimated snow, trundling in booming din. The delicate chandeliers of ice along the ridgelines and faces show themselves for what they happen to be: some of the most powerful natural forces of erosion which exist in, and as the result of, a near constant state of motion, plucking and mashing in a ceaseless flow of primeval destruction. 

A Denali expedition can experience the same contradictions from day to day. We spend multiple days where our only minute movement may be in transit to the bathroom or simply rolling over in bed for fear of pressure ulcers. On these days the mountain itself may feel more alive with weather and with that, even moody or spiteful. We spend many days where we only yield a brutal locomotion to consume or sleep, spending the daylight hours (and there are many) in a constant toil. On these days it may seem that the mountain has drifted back down to a state of rest and wouldn’t note our proceedings, until that serac falls in the distance. Throughout, if you happen to take notice, both the ultimate stillness and the constant motion are in abundance. In this place and in leaving we are so grateful for the opportunity to experience such an atypical environment with a group of people so willing and capable.

Despite not reaching our goal of the summit, I am quite pleased with how much I’ve learned on this trip and how much I enjoyed the company. I am pleased with our safe descent and return home to family and friends. I am hopeful for another attempt at Denali’s summit in the future.

RMI Guide Will Ambler & Team

Friday, June 26, 2026 10:44pm PDT

Certainly, colder up here at 14K. We ate breakfast in the shadows before the sun came around the mountain at 9:20.That made it a lot easier to prepare for our 10:15 mission to reclaim our cache at Windy Corner. It was a pleasant walk down, naturally -with light packs. The Ravens had not disturbed our carefully buried supplies. We loaded up and set ourselves to the two-hour workout to get back up to camp. The weather was perfect with clear skies and no wind, and we were happy to hear Ben’s RMI team on the radio, heading toward the summit. The rest of our day was. Spent resting, rehydrating, and training for a climb on the fixed rope section of the West Buttress tomorrow.

RMI Guide Dave Hahn & Team

1/11 Denali Team 7 dispatch.

Friday June 26, 2026 11:45pm PST

To those who visit the slopes of Denali: Be ready. Be prepared. Be patient. Climbing a mountain can mean a lot of different things for every single one of us. A mountain like Denali can draw us in by sight, it can draw us in with curiosity, or it can draw us in by the challenge it represents. What it won't tell you, however, is why. That is on our own to figure out or understand. Some things to consider:

1. Who will you meet? Whether arriving alone or with friends, we are sure to leave this place with a bond that will never fade. We need each other out here just to survive.

2. What will you learn? No matter your skill set, Denali will become your teacher. You will develop a whole new set of understanding of what it means to be a mountaineer.

3. How will I make it?! Well, that will take a lot of MDeal, a sprinkle of Farkle, cooking on high heat (always), some light yoga, a few walks down Main Street at 14k, and probably a dash of good luck when it comes to the weather.

4. What will I tell others? Tell them the truth. It is f-ing hard climbing this mountain. Right out of the gate, we drag sleds loaded with 22 days of food, fuel, and gear to live in an inhospitable place. We climb everything from 8,000 feet to 16,200 feet twice to make it all happen. All this, and then we wait. Sometimes longer than we want to, but we wait for the mountain to say "OK." It's a roller coaster of emotions. You freeze or fry; there's no in between. You worry. You wonder. You pace. You run through every possible scenario in your head. And then, if Denali says "go," you push yourself to a limit you never thought existed. If all goes well, finally, you stand at the highest point in North America.

And that's what we did. A HUGE congratulations to this team for sticking it out, working their asses off, and standing on top of Denali. We will walk away from this climb knowing that we did something extremely difficult. We are grateful. Grateful for the opportunity. And best of all, a Twinkie never tasted so good over 20,000 feet, but only one of us got to see what the inside of a glacier looks like up close.

RMI Guides Ben, Mike, Avery, and Team.

Great News!

Dan May and 100% of the team reached the summit of Denali! 

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