Our team got shut down by weather on our summit push, but that didn't stop us from having an amazing trip. The climbing and views on our way to high camp below the Upper Curtis glacier were worth the hard push getting there.
The Fisher Chimneys is an incredible route- alpine rock, a pitch of easy ice climbing, and outstanding views of Mount Baker and the Curtis glacier make it a classic!
We got out last night and the team celebrated a great, safe and fun trip! Until next year Washington.
RMI Guide Zeb Blais and Team
The Four Day Summit Climb teams led by RMI Guides Adam Knoff and Solveig Waterfall reached the summit of Mt. Rainier this morning. While on the summit, the teams enjoyed light winds and high clouds. The teams will return to Rainier BaseCamp in Ashford this afternoon.
Congratulations Climbers!
We had a great climb today, with everyone climbing strong and reaching the summit of Rucu Pichincha. At a height of nearly 15,700', many of our team set new personal altitude records today. We were working hard and breathing deeply in the thin air of Rucu, which rises abruptly out of the city of Quito. We accessed the upper ridge of Rucu via a gondola ride to over 13,000'.
The weather cooperated with us today, although on the summit the views were obscured by clouds. Lower on the climb we were afforded impressive views down into the Quito valley below.
We're psyched for a little down time this afternoon. We head up north tomorrow to climb Fuya Fuya. We'll keep you posted.
RMI Guide Mike Walter
June 7, 2015, 4:47 pm PT
It is difficult to find a place to begin the final dispatch of our group's grand adventure. No mountain climbing objective quite compares to the raw and unprecedented challenge of Denali. Having been here nine times before, the burrito of emotions ranging from excitement and joy to anxiety and fear all get rolled into one and when the plane takes off and you go past the point of no return, managing all these feelings becomes more than half the battle. I have seen this mountain crack the hardest of nuts. Climbers who have summitted 8000 meter peaks routinely come here and say it is the hardest mountain they have ever attempted. In the broad scope of mountaineering landscapes, "The High One" stands alone, both on the tundra and in our lives.
With this said, no one is prouder of the group than I am. Two days ago we began our march from 14,000 feet down into the unknown. With wind gusts strong enough to make walking feel like a mosh pit and snow conditions making hide-and-go-seek with crevasses a heart-pounding game, we honestly didn't know what the next hour, let alone day, would bring. After a brief visit at 11,000 feet we kept going into the ginormous ping pong ball navigating only with GPS. At 9,000 feet we had to stop. This sort of challenge became par for the course. Yesterday morning, despite the feet of new snow, everyone's energy, motivation and attitude never wavered. Four hours after leaving camp we were at the air strip and 45 minutes after arriving we were on a plane back to civilization. We fly into Denali as someone and we fly off of Denali as someone else. I have been changed by the mountain many times. Very rarely has a group such as this had a profound influence on that change. It was an honor to lead you all.
Thanks again to Nick and Andy for being such hard working and trustworthy partners on the guiding front. You both rock!
Thanks also to those who followed along. The stories of what happens the night you return to food and drink will have to be shared in person.
Until the next adventure. Keep climbing.
RMI Guide Adam Knoff
Thanks to Adam and the other guides for a safe ascent and return. You did an amazing job with the group and we are proud of the whole team. The weather sounded tough but you all were more tough! Safe travels to your home ports and wishing you all well again!!
Posted by: Connie Whitley on 6/8/2015 at 8:17 am
So very proud of each member of the team and the guides for support and tenacity that must.have permeated your very beings to make this such a successful journey up and down the mighty Mt McKinley. Will, so looking forward to hearing all of the details, congratulations. Well done. XOXOXO
May 24, 2015 - 9:32 am PT
Winter has come to Denali. We spent the night listening to snowflakes pelt the tent walls, interspersed with frequent tent shaking blasts of wind. As we stretched breakfast into a long brunch, the story didn't change, so we decided to focus our energy on building up our walls a bit more and solidifying camp rather than going to get our cache. The evening brought stronger snow, and a fresh forecast of more snow tomorrow and wind, so we'll see how the plan for tomorrow shakes out. From the wintry white north,
RMI Guides Pete Van Deventer, Robby Young, Josh Maggard, and team
Hey all you Elves in winter wonderland. Looks like Santa Claus back yard. Looks like few teams set up their camp there too.
Hope to hear you can get to your cache tomorrow and settle.
Hope you nice and warm and well Renee.
Soldier on.
Thanks for the pic team PRJ.
All the best.
Love you lots Renee. Mama xx
Posted by: Lori on 5/24/2015 at 4:42 pm
Glad Team Pete made it in time before the weather turn wintry good idea to stay put. Sorry to hear weather has not been cooperating hopefully it will be better soon less wind would be awesome. We are all pulling for team Pete.
Matt stay warm and use sunscreen once a mom always a mom lol. Dad and I finally put new plants and flowers across from the mailbox it looks really nice Michael finished with the sprinkler. Everyone in Cali prays for your safety, good health and cooperative weather.
Have a goodnight sleep till the next update be safe and warm
love mom ox
May 10, 2015 11:50 am PT
RMI Guide Leon Davis checked in from Talkeetna. The weather improved this morning allowing RMI Mt. McKinley May 5th Team led by Mike Walter to fly to Kahiltna. This same plane then loaded Leon and Team to fly from Kahiltna Base Camp to Talkeetna.
The Alaska Mountaineering Seminar - Alpine led by Elias de Andres Martos was also able to fly from Talkeetna today and have been flown to the Pika Glacier to start their expedition.
We moved to the 14,000' camp yesterday. The weather was clear and sunny above us and clouds below. A light wind kept things comfortable. We plan to make a back carry today to Windy Corner to pickup our cache. Everyone is doing well and in high spirits.
I'm scared of Mount Everest. There, I said it. In fact, I'm scared of most mountains I climb, even ones like Rainier which I've climbed close to 90 times. But it's a fear which I embrace and welcome with each new climb.
My fear began in 1984, when I watched Winds of Everest, a film about the first American ascent of Everest's North Side (incidentally, it was led by Lou Whittaker, and his son, Peter, climbed above 25,000 feet on the expedition). The opening narration by John Denver reads:
In the eternal lives of mountains, the ambitions of men are as insignificant as the snow that swirls from their rocky ridges. The lives of man are transitory...the mountain is everlasting.
It's a notion that has never been lost on me, a constant reminder that mountains do not forgive complacency, that any peak - no matter how familiar, no matter how many times you have climbed it - can be a deadly, dangerous place. Fear, in the mountain realm, is a good thing.
I've been to Everest before. My first trip here was to the Northeast Ridge in 1999. This is my 6th expedition to Everest, my 8th to an 8,000 meter peak. I was able to sneak to the top of Everest by the Southeast Ridge in 2002, and the Northeast in 2003.
In many ways, this is familiar turf, a comfortable stomping ground. One would think, then, that gearing up for our summit bid would be simple, devoid of much thought, anticipation, or trepidation about the days to come. But that is far from the case.
We've all read the press reports that love to tout today's Everest as a "walk up," "a highway," and the like. Sure, the mountain today is not Hillary and Tenzing's Everest, or Whittaker and Gombu's. It's changed considerably over the years-a little physically and a lot in how it's climbed. However, the reality is that it's still 29,035 feet tall, there's no tram or escalator (yet), and to get to the top one must still put one foot in front of the other for 12,000 vertical feet above basecamp.
As I prepare for our summit bid, that reality is never far from my mind.
I gaze up at the Icefall looming immediately out of camp, and see its hazards. It was only a week ago that it claimed a life. Gotta be ready to move fast there, as always, but maybe even a bit faster this time. From there, the Western Cwm presents little danger - aside from oppressive heat at times - but I know its couple of miles of length can take a lot out of a climber, and I'll need to arrive at Camp 2 feeling strong - lots of mountain above that.
The Lhotse Face - a couple thousand feet of steep snow and ice - is made more approachable with fixed lines, but still a place for caution. Falling rocks are one hazard, and simply missing a clip or taking a fall are other real hazards. No complacency there, I tell myself, remembering the climber who died in 2002. Climb strong, safe, and smart.
From Camp 3, it gets more serious. Approaching 8,000 meters - the famed death zone - both the mind and the body suffer, and there's still a lot of mountain to climb. While I've been fortunate to always perform well up high, I never kid myself into believing it will be easy. A myriad of things can go wrong - a stomach bug, cold, infection - can all take you out of the running. Above Camp 3, we're in down suits, breathing oxygen; communication becomes more difficult, peripheral vision obscured. And ahead lie the Yellow Band and Geneva Spur...neither overly technical or challenging, but made at least interesting given their location. No mistakes here either. It's a long way down!
Finally, the South Col, Camp 4, 26,000 feet. Not even a glimmer of relaxation here. We'll pull into the Col in early afternoon, brew up, lie down, and in a handful of hours begin walking again, in the dark, up the Triangle Face and toward the summit. It's a long day from the Col... perhaps 4 hours to the Balcony at 27,500 feet. Another 2 hours or so from there to the South Summit, 28,750 feet. And then it gets interesting: here's where things most often begin to unravel. From the South Summit lies the most exposed and technical terrain of summit day, if not of the entire climb. And there are bottlenecks: find yourself up there with a crowd, and you can wait for an hour or more to ascend the Hillary Step and get to the top. There's no passing lane; standing room only.
But then you finally hit the top. Celebration! Elation! Congratulations! And then the realization that the top is only 1/2 way...there's still 12,000 feet of dangerous terrain between the top and bottom. No champagne yet, not until every team member - Nepalis and Westerners alike - are safely back at basecamp. Never let your guard down...the mountain doesn't care about your ambitions.
Sure, I've climbed Everest before. I'll be with a strong team with ample experience. The weather looks reasonable. But, despite all that, I still have a lot of trepidation. I'm scared of Mount Everest...and I'm happy to be.
Today we attempted to hike up the 14,600’ peak of La Malinche. The drive to the park entrance goes through a nice pine forest. We got to tree line around 1:45pm at 12,800’ and storm clouds had been sitting on the summit all day. There was thunder and billowing clouds for the next hour. The guides decided that being on an exposed ridge line with a building electrical storm on the horizon wasn't the best scenario. We started the descent with views of the surrounding countryside coming and going between dark clouds. We are back at the cabins having had a delicious meal and eager to get started on the Ixta portion of our trip.
Tuesday, May 28, 2019 - 6:12 PM PT
Today dawned clear and calm and cold. I got out of the tent at the frigid hour of 4:30 am to start the stoves. I woke everyone else shortly thereafter to start packing up their sleeping bags and gearing up for our move to High Camp, we were rolling by 7:10. Clouds had moved in and by the time we topped out on the fixed lines a light breeze kept the temps cold. We made good time navigating the fixed ropes and the West Buttress Ridge all the way to 17,200'. Five hours and ten minutes after leaving 14 Camp we were in 17 Camp. But we had hours of work to do, digging and chipping flat tent platforms out of rock hard ice and wind eroded snow.
Now we're all moved in to our tents, we've filled water bottles, and we're making more water for dinner. We're hoping the weather forecast validates and tomorrow will let us have a stab at the summit. If not, we're set up with food and fuel to wait a handful of days until we get our chance. We'll keep you posted.
RMI Guide Mike Walter
Congratulations to everyone! Prayers to all for a safe descent.
Your followers in Columbus, Georgia :)
Posted by: Janette on 5/30/2019 at 5:48 am
It looks like you reached the summit yesterday at around 5:30pm? We have been closely following your progress through the Garmin updates from one of your team members. Can’t wait to read the update. Hope you are all doing well and enjoying the amazing achievement.
Suretha Swart
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Hey Jeff, congrats on reaching your goal! Safe trip back for all!
Love Mom and Dad
Posted by: Joanne on 6/28/2015 at 4:55 pm
Yea Andrew, Danielle and team! Send photos.
Posted by: PopPop LeClair on 6/28/2015 at 4:13 am
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