Entries from Alaska

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.

Thursday, June 25 10PM PST

We got our chance and took advantage today.  It was a sunny, calm day from start to finish. We got going up motorcycle hill at 9AM with packs and sleds. Luckily, several teams came down the mountain in the night, which plowed a trail for us through the recent snow. Our climb today was plenty hard but would certainly have been harder if we’d been breaking trail.  From our previous high point at Windy Corner, we simply added two more hour long climbs.  It was exciting to get around the Corner as the views are incredible.  It is tempting to look at the thousand or more peaks stretching to the horizon, it is tempting to look wayyyy back down to the  Kahiltna Glacier, far below.  Rounding the corner, one comes face to face with Denali’s South Peak and there is plenty to look at there too.  But of course the corner itself can be tricky climbing which means you can’t really stare at all those views.  We got into 14 Camp after 6 hrs and twenty minutes, which was fine.  Building camp took a few hours as usual, perhaps because we kept stopping to stare at the rock, the ice, and the scale of it all.  Tomorrow we’ll drop briefly down to retrieve our cache.

- RMI Guide Dave Hahn
 

Thursday, June 25, 2026 - 12:55 am PT

Denali Dispatch 6/24/26

Thoughts on Patience:

As Ben says, if this mountain teaches you anything it’s patience.

Patience with the weather, with the conditions and with each other. It’s easy to forget on the days of warm sun, calm winds and endless views that Denali isn’t always this way. That she can change her mind in a moments notice and have you walking in circles from whiteout conditions and cursing her tent rattling winds as you try and sleep.

But one way or another patience always pays off. To remeber that the sun is always shining somewhere above the clouds and that these glaciers and rocks have been here long before us patiently observing each passerby. Our time on this mountain is short in the grand scheme of things and I know everyone here will soon miss the simplicity of life on Denali. The rhythm we have found over leisurely breakfast conversation, camp walks, reading, writing and excess games of M-deal. Our time here is utterly human- working as a team to do what we need to survive.

So as today marks day 8 of being at 14,000' Camp and waiting to see when the mountain will invite us higher. We once again practice patience. Waiting in this jaw dropping alpine amphitheater for the mountain to tell us we have been patient long enough and it’s our turn to try and touch the top.

So as we get excited and motivated to move higher. We must remeber to move at rhythm of the mountain slow and steady. Observing, listening and being. Always remembering that in a moments notice she can decide to test our patience once again.

It is such a privilege to be among these echoing cliffs and snowy spines and I’m so proud of our team for keeping their spirits high among the waiting game. There is so much time to still be had here and I feel lucky I get to practice my patience with each and every one of you. 

Now let’s patiently wait to see what tomorrow brings!

With love from 14k camp,

RMI Guide Avery Stolte and team!

Wednesday, June 24, 2026 - 9:44 pm PT

Well the storm was still around today but it got done piling snow on our tents by 5AM.  We ended up getting a pretty sunny calm day. There were still clouds everywhere but not on us. Having received at least a foot of new snow in a relatively short time, we needed the slopes to cook and settle in the sunshine to cut down on avalanche possibilities. They seemed to be doing just that.  Will Ambler gave a master class in snow/avalanche science to our assembled climbing team this afternoon.  We’ve now got our eyes on a move up to 14,000' tomorrow morning in what should be good weather.

RMI Guide Dave Hahn

Tuesday, June 23, 2026 - 11:34 pm PT

Egg muffins kicked off our snowy day,

and Farkle helped pass the time away.

With plenty of group talks in the den,

and camp strolls now and then,

We rested while weather held sway.

Monopoly Deal took the lead,

And castle walls got what they need.

Now we wait and we see,

What weather will be,

And hope for summit bound speed.

RMI Climber Ethan

Tuesday, June 23, 2026 - 10:00 pm PT

The expedition continues! The past few days have been overwhelmingly successful. On the 21st we had a short day consisting of picking up our cache at 9,800 and bringing it up to 11,000' Camp. The next day, we brought a cache up to 14 Camp and met up with Ben’s team. Today, we woke up early and outran (or out-shuffled) the worst of the bad upcoming weather to 14 Camp, and are resting victoriously! 

With luck, we’ll be able to get a cache up high after weathering the storm.

RMI Climber Daniel 

Tuesday, June 23, 2026 - 8:57 pm PT

Not much action for us today, big storm hitting the mountain.  We were watching the weather from 3 AM, hoping for a chance to sneak up to 14 Camp ahead of the incoming storm, but ultimately we decided there wasn’t a sufficient window for doing it safely.  After five days of walking and carrying loads, we rested today and watched it snow and blow.  We sat a little long following meals and told each other stories in the dining tent.  Forecasts suggest the storm will be with us tonight and tomorrow as well. We can wait.

RMI Guide Dave Hahn

Tuesday, June 23, 2026 - 1:11 am PT

June 22nd - Day whatever.

Today was the teams first unplanned rest day. A storm is moving through the area over the next few days, and while we are unsure of how severe it will be, we are sure we don't want to be high on the mountain until it passes. We are also sure as hell up to the task when our time comes.  Today we enjoyed excellent breakfast quesadillas (send hot sauce) and built up our fortifications around camp. These fortifications are 4-5 ft high walls made of quarried snow blocks, complete with a 6.5 ft arch the ancient Greeks would approve of. Shout out to Jimmy's vision and passion to this beautiful piece of work.  Bob the builder ain't got shit on him. After a short break we jumped right into a quick yoga session. Amanda led us through an excellent vinyasa... in the snow, at 14 thousand feet, we are not in Kansas anymore. After another short break Dr. Nick gave us a wonderfully compelling, if not sobering, lesson in the basics of wilderness medicine and the benefits of a tongue piercing.  I feel compelled by the many elegant writers in our group to expand beyond the literal in this writing, and the reflection of Nick's question seems to be the jumping off point for this so here goes...

What makes you feel alive? This is a very individual question with no proper answer. Personally nothing challenges me, fulfills me, or motivates me like the wilderness. Nothing gives me perspective, closure, or meaning  like the places in the world where nature still reigns supreme. 

Nothing makes me feel alive like being in the mountains. Everyone on this mountain, not just this team but the true spectrum of humanity that coexists in this frozen paradise has a common goal, and in this goal we are united and supported by each other in ways that don't always persist off the mountain. We are far more than surviving out here, we are thriving and growing and learning in ways that you cannot replicate in a classroom.

Life is weird and trippy and completely uncertain, but in these moments and in these places we are present and living to the fullest. We are very very lucky, and very very smelly.To avoid writing a thesis, I think what it boils down to is to find your mountain. Find what makes you feel alive, whatever it is and keep climbing until your knees give out. Then maybe crawl for a little bit. I want to thank my parents and siblings for supporting me while I chase my dreams across the world. I love you guys, and I miss my dog.

RMI Climber Matt Gates

Monday, June 22, 2026 - 9:48 pm PT

Our crampons were crunching snow just after 8 this morning as we got going up Motorcycle Hill.  An hour of climbing got us to the middle of Squirrel Hill, where we had great (and new) views of the Peters Glacier and the NW Buttress of Denali.  We had some steep hills to muscle up before reaching the relatively flat terrain at the start of the Polo Field below the end of the West Buttress.  An hour of gradually steepening climbing then got us to the relatively flat terrain at the start of the Polo Field below the end of the West Buttress.  An hour of gradually steepening climbing then got us to the pass at Windy Corner.  There, at about 13,300 ft we chose to cache our food and fuel.  The weather stayed more or less stable -there was no wind at windy corner- but clouds were increasing and we were getting intermittent snow showers. The team had a smooth descent to 11k with lighter packs and sleds.  The afternoon and evening were mostly cloudy back at camp, but we enjoyed a few sun breaks too.  We hope to move up to 14k tomorrow ahead of a forecasted storm. Fingers crossed.

RMI Guide Dave Hahn

Sunday, June 21 - 11:30PM PST

Day 11! Wow. How far we have come from the Denali Brew Pub in Talkeetna - freshly showered, wearing shorts, and eating fresh greens. But what an incredible 11 days it’s been.

11 days of living in what feels like a simulation where the vistas in every direction look like a green screen.
11 days of seeking daily validation from Ben, Mike, and Avery-- “Avery, how many layers are you planning to start the day with??” “Mike, how’s my knot looking??”
11 days of squeezing one last M deal game in after dinner.
11 days of singing Ariana Grande’s God is a Woman in my head to power me through the final 500’ of our 3000’ vert days.
11 days of worshipping the sun each morning as she peeks over the mountain tops and drips down into our camp.
11 days of shitting in a bucket with a bunch of dudes and somehow feeling more at peace than I have in a long time.
And 11 days of feeling entirely and fully present.

A couple of days ago, Nick asked us to describe what the mountains mean to us in three words. I said, “Here I am.” Meaning, on the mountain, there’s no other place I need to be, no deadlines to meet, no notifications to check, no messages to respond to. It is a rare and special feeling. Insert a comma and you have “Here, I am.” On the mountain, I simply exist. I’m not worried about what I look like  or performing in a way that others expect of me. I am me. And that’s enough.

This morning started like most of them have - peeling off our eye masks as Ben’s voice breaks the silence: “hot water in 15!” And we embark on the 15-20 minute ordeal that is getting layered, putting boots on, getting out of the tent, and braving the icy air outside. We gathered in the kitchen tent for hot coffee and the long awaited pancake breakfast. Pancakes fluffier than the powder that surrounds us. Mid chow, Amanda finally started the kitchen tent rave she’s been begging for, hooking up to the Bluetooth and blessing us with Soffi Tucker’s banger “Throw Some Ass.” Just as the  beat dropped, Ben turned around and flipped a pancake twice the size of his head a foot into the air catching it flawlessly back in his skillet. The crowd went wild. After the flapjack show, we split up into our rope teams and made the short walk to the “edge of the world,” an iconic rock outcropping at 14K camp that looks thousands of feet below into the “Valley of Death.” The rest of the afternoon Jimmy, Hudson, and Dev built ice walls around our camp to protect us from the incoming weather. Avery led a clinic on avalanche beacons and rescue, and we got “knotty” with Mike. These rest days are important both for acclimatization and to let our muscles recover before our hopeful summit bid.

At this point in the trip, we have completed our preparation and have put ourselves in position to summit this thing. We should be proud of that. Yesterday we finished our final cache up to 16K. It was intense navigating our way up and down the steep terrain digging our crampons into electric blue sheets of glacial ice while simultaneously moving our ascenders up the fixed lines—a first for several of us. But the whole team crushed it.

And now we wait. Wait for Mother Denali to invite us to her peak. I often say, “the mountain doesn’t care.” She will not coddle you or temper her forces to make you feel more comfortable, more at ease. It’s one of the reasons that preparation and respect are a requirement (though not a guarantee) for success up here. But for the past 11 days, it feels like she knows we are here and is not only showing off her treasures but will help guide and protect us on our way to her summit.

As we patiently wait for our “summit window” (i.e., 72 hours of clear and calm weather that will allow us to safely move from 14k camp to 17k camp to the summit and back down), I feel so much gratitude for my mental and physical strength and the opportunity to explore some of the farthest corners of this beautiful planet (doing it with my husband and little sister is the cherry on top). And I feel confident that we’ll finish this climb the same way you get anywhere else you want to go in life: by putting one foot in front of the other.

PS Happy Father’s Day Dad (and to all the dads out there)! You are with us every step of this journey. We can’t wait to share stories and photos with you soon! ❤️

PPS Thank you to all of the friends and family who have been following along! Your love and support mean the world to us. We’ll see you all soon.

With love from 14K,
Allison