Alaska Range Trip Report -Chapters 1-5
My previous thread gave a link to the pictures. Here is the first installment of my trip report. Hope it makes for good reading.
Chapter 1 – “Wheels Up”
The sound of an Alaska Railroad freight train nudges me from a light sleep. The fact that is about as bright as a cloudy day at noon forces a glance at the clock - 4 AM. Well, the plan to stay up late to help adjust to the 4 hour time difference was foiled by a couple of ice axe ales with dinner at the West Rib Pub. The 9% alcohol content, effects of the long trip to Talkeetna, and time difference were too much to overcome last night as I fell asleep without effort at 7 PM. Lying awake unable to sleep will become an all to familiar scenario in the coming days.
At the foot of the bed lay a pack and duffel containing about 70 pounds of clothing and gear, carefully chosen to achieve the right balance of weight vs need. The gear list provided by the Alaska Mountaineering School (AMS) provided the recipe for the layers of clothing, camp equipment, personal care items, and mountaineering gear assembled over the past several months. I was surprised to actually have some leftover void space in my 5000 cu in pack.
After savoring my last hot shower and brewed coffee for a while, it was time to head over to AMS to get started. As I arrived, 2 other students were in the process of “exploding” their packs, emptying the contents onto blue tarps laying on the ground. Coffee, muffins, and juice were set out and we were encouraged to “hydrate-hydrate- hydrate”. Brief introductions were made and the day’s schedule was laid out on a white board in the large gear room at the rear of the AMS building. One student had ridden his bike to Talkeetna from Bellingham Washington as part of a fundrasining effort for the American Diabetes Association. He was to complete the AMS course with us as a prerequisite to a guided Denali summit expedition with Alpine Ascents International (AAI) the following week. Another student was registered to run in the Anchorage marathon 2 days following our return. The remainder of the class consisted of folks with varying experience in skiing, rock climbing, bouldering, and hiking. I was the only ice climber in the group, and needless to say, the only Adirondack 46-R. After listening to the stories about biking and marathon running, I was glad I had trained hard as well, carrying 40 lbs of water up a high peak each weekend since April along with keeping up my usual weight lifting and aerobic routine at the gym.
After introductions it was time for gear check. Each of the 3 instructors handled a different part of the gear checklist and went through each item. After looking at the 4 shirts and 2 pairs of polypro tights I had laid out, the instructor said, “These are good – pick 2 shirts and 1 pair of tights, leave the rest”. When it came to personal items she held up my small travel sized deodorant and said “You won’t be needing this”. “It wasn’t for my benefit” was my reply as I moved it to the “reject” pile. Following gear check I had whittled the pile on the tarp down by a few items, not much compared to some of my classmates whose “reject” piles were approaching the size of their “keep” piles. After renting or purchasing a few additional necessities (avalanche transceiver, nose guard for glacier glasses, etc) my pack weighed in at 32 lbs. This did not include “group gear” like stoves, tents, food, and fuel which would be divided up on the glacier.
This leads me to another vital piece of gear – the “CMC”. The CMC or Clean Mountain Container has been introduced by the National Park Service (NPS) for all mountaineering groups in the Alaska Range. The problem of human waste has become such a health issue on Denali that the Park Service has taken “Leave No Trace” one step further. Each person is issued their own personal CMC. It is similar to a bear canister, with a screw top. We were instructed to “Urinate in the snow – but everything else goes in the CMC”. I was handed the small canister with its round foam “toilet seat” ring and my name personalized in duct tape and gave it a suspicious look. I’m all in favor of good wilderness ethics and decided right away it was a good idea.
After a brief but delicious lunch at AMS (I felt the good food was a good omen of things to come) we went over to the AMS indoor climbing gym and were taught how to harness up (something I’ve done hundreds of times) and how to attach our ascenders and foot loop to the rope while dangling after a crevasse fall. We then had to climb up the rope to the top of the gym as we would in a real crevasse, although real crevasses lack the crash pads we were afforded to break any falls. AMS teaches a one leg prussik using the opposite leg from your ascender hand. The foot loop is clipped to the existing prussik knot that connects between your harness and the rope allowing the rope to slide freely until a fall cinches the knot. I found it to be quicker and smoother than the 2 leg “Texas prussik” technique I am accustomed to. It was also my first time using an ascender. I felt good as I quickly worked my way up the line, gaining a compliment from my instructor.
After ascender practice it was off to the Ranger Station a few short blocks away to pay our $10 park admission fee ( the NPS realized that climbers being flown directly onto the glaciers bypassed the park entrance toll booths and remedied the situation). Posted in the ranger station are the current season statistics for Denali and Foraker. I noticed that almost 1300 climbers will be attempting Denali this year and of those who have completed their climbs, 50% summited. Foraker was even more sobering with a 20% summit rate. Only 4 climbers had made it up Foraker.
This brings me back to another story from AMS earlier that morning. As we were performing our gear checks, the AMS owner came out and told us that a group was returning from Denali shortly, they had been pinned down in high camp (17,200 ft) for a week by constant storms and “the weather beat them up pretty bad”. To make things worse, when the weather broke and they could finally escape, a snow bridge across a cevasse had collapsed, forcing them the climb back up to the 13,000 ft camp for another night. He asked that we not question them about reaching the summit when they returned, suggesting we ask open ended questions like “How did the trip go?” and let them decide how much they wanted to share. When they did come in, there was a look of weary relief on their faces as they unpacked their gear. None of us spoke a word to them, but the rest of the AMS staff gave them warm greetings.
Finally the time came to suit up and fly out. We changed into our mountain clothes and plastic double boots and loaded our gear into the AMS van. Every item, including ourselves was weighed and recorded to provide to the air Service ‘Talkeetna Air Taxi” (TAT). The gear was driven but we walked the short distance to the airport, gaining stares from the cruise line tourists who descend upon Talkeetna each afternoon.
After unloading the vans using small carts at the airport we awaited our flights. Up until this point it was unsure where exactly we would be going. AMS had wanted to use the remote Eldridge Glacier for the course instead of the more congested Kahiltna or Ruth Glaciers. However, concerns about weather and conditions were not resolved until just prior to our departure when we were notified that TAT agreed that the conditions were safe to land and take off from the Eldridge. A total of 3 planes would be used to get us onto the mountain. The planes soon arrived, dispatched their “flightseeing” passengers and we helped the pilots load gear. We squeezed 3 of us in the small back seat of a 1957 DeHavilland Beaver - a classic Alaskan bush plane. I questioned the wisdom of flying on a plane that was older that I was. But everything appeared up to date and well maintained.
We donned headsets with radios so we could communicate over the loud engines and were soon taking off. The area around Talkeetna is arctic tundra with many rivers braided through the landscape. I was surprised at the number of small cabins with no obvious roads or paths to reach them. I found out from the pilot you either come up the river in a boat, or get the Alaska Railroad to just stop and let you off near your cabin. Even then it looked like a 1-2 mile walk after that, although most people drive quad-runners.
My previous thread gave a link to the pictures. Here is the first installment of my trip report. Hope it makes for good reading.
Chapter 1 – “Wheels Up”
The sound of an Alaska Railroad freight train nudges me from a light sleep. The fact that is about as bright as a cloudy day at noon forces a glance at the clock - 4 AM. Well, the plan to stay up late to help adjust to the 4 hour time difference was foiled by a couple of ice axe ales with dinner at the West Rib Pub. The 9% alcohol content, effects of the long trip to Talkeetna, and time difference were too much to overcome last night as I fell asleep without effort at 7 PM. Lying awake unable to sleep will become an all to familiar scenario in the coming days.
At the foot of the bed lay a pack and duffel containing about 70 pounds of clothing and gear, carefully chosen to achieve the right balance of weight vs need. The gear list provided by the Alaska Mountaineering School (AMS) provided the recipe for the layers of clothing, camp equipment, personal care items, and mountaineering gear assembled over the past several months. I was surprised to actually have some leftover void space in my 5000 cu in pack.
After savoring my last hot shower and brewed coffee for a while, it was time to head over to AMS to get started. As I arrived, 2 other students were in the process of “exploding” their packs, emptying the contents onto blue tarps laying on the ground. Coffee, muffins, and juice were set out and we were encouraged to “hydrate-hydrate- hydrate”. Brief introductions were made and the day’s schedule was laid out on a white board in the large gear room at the rear of the AMS building. One student had ridden his bike to Talkeetna from Bellingham Washington as part of a fundrasining effort for the American Diabetes Association. He was to complete the AMS course with us as a prerequisite to a guided Denali summit expedition with Alpine Ascents International (AAI) the following week. Another student was registered to run in the Anchorage marathon 2 days following our return. The remainder of the class consisted of folks with varying experience in skiing, rock climbing, bouldering, and hiking. I was the only ice climber in the group, and needless to say, the only Adirondack 46-R. After listening to the stories about biking and marathon running, I was glad I had trained hard as well, carrying 40 lbs of water up a high peak each weekend since April along with keeping up my usual weight lifting and aerobic routine at the gym.
After introductions it was time for gear check. Each of the 3 instructors handled a different part of the gear checklist and went through each item. After looking at the 4 shirts and 2 pairs of polypro tights I had laid out, the instructor said, “These are good – pick 2 shirts and 1 pair of tights, leave the rest”. When it came to personal items she held up my small travel sized deodorant and said “You won’t be needing this”. “It wasn’t for my benefit” was my reply as I moved it to the “reject” pile. Following gear check I had whittled the pile on the tarp down by a few items, not much compared to some of my classmates whose “reject” piles were approaching the size of their “keep” piles. After renting or purchasing a few additional necessities (avalanche transceiver, nose guard for glacier glasses, etc) my pack weighed in at 32 lbs. This did not include “group gear” like stoves, tents, food, and fuel which would be divided up on the glacier.
This leads me to another vital piece of gear – the “CMC”. The CMC or Clean Mountain Container has been introduced by the National Park Service (NPS) for all mountaineering groups in the Alaska Range. The problem of human waste has become such a health issue on Denali that the Park Service has taken “Leave No Trace” one step further. Each person is issued their own personal CMC. It is similar to a bear canister, with a screw top. We were instructed to “Urinate in the snow – but everything else goes in the CMC”. I was handed the small canister with its round foam “toilet seat” ring and my name personalized in duct tape and gave it a suspicious look. I’m all in favor of good wilderness ethics and decided right away it was a good idea.
After a brief but delicious lunch at AMS (I felt the good food was a good omen of things to come) we went over to the AMS indoor climbing gym and were taught how to harness up (something I’ve done hundreds of times) and how to attach our ascenders and foot loop to the rope while dangling after a crevasse fall. We then had to climb up the rope to the top of the gym as we would in a real crevasse, although real crevasses lack the crash pads we were afforded to break any falls. AMS teaches a one leg prussik using the opposite leg from your ascender hand. The foot loop is clipped to the existing prussik knot that connects between your harness and the rope allowing the rope to slide freely until a fall cinches the knot. I found it to be quicker and smoother than the 2 leg “Texas prussik” technique I am accustomed to. It was also my first time using an ascender. I felt good as I quickly worked my way up the line, gaining a compliment from my instructor.
After ascender practice it was off to the Ranger Station a few short blocks away to pay our $10 park admission fee ( the NPS realized that climbers being flown directly onto the glaciers bypassed the park entrance toll booths and remedied the situation). Posted in the ranger station are the current season statistics for Denali and Foraker. I noticed that almost 1300 climbers will be attempting Denali this year and of those who have completed their climbs, 50% summited. Foraker was even more sobering with a 20% summit rate. Only 4 climbers had made it up Foraker.
This brings me back to another story from AMS earlier that morning. As we were performing our gear checks, the AMS owner came out and told us that a group was returning from Denali shortly, they had been pinned down in high camp (17,200 ft) for a week by constant storms and “the weather beat them up pretty bad”. To make things worse, when the weather broke and they could finally escape, a snow bridge across a cevasse had collapsed, forcing them the climb back up to the 13,000 ft camp for another night. He asked that we not question them about reaching the summit when they returned, suggesting we ask open ended questions like “How did the trip go?” and let them decide how much they wanted to share. When they did come in, there was a look of weary relief on their faces as they unpacked their gear. None of us spoke a word to them, but the rest of the AMS staff gave them warm greetings.
Finally the time came to suit up and fly out. We changed into our mountain clothes and plastic double boots and loaded our gear into the AMS van. Every item, including ourselves was weighed and recorded to provide to the air Service ‘Talkeetna Air Taxi” (TAT). The gear was driven but we walked the short distance to the airport, gaining stares from the cruise line tourists who descend upon Talkeetna each afternoon.
After unloading the vans using small carts at the airport we awaited our flights. Up until this point it was unsure where exactly we would be going. AMS had wanted to use the remote Eldridge Glacier for the course instead of the more congested Kahiltna or Ruth Glaciers. However, concerns about weather and conditions were not resolved until just prior to our departure when we were notified that TAT agreed that the conditions were safe to land and take off from the Eldridge. A total of 3 planes would be used to get us onto the mountain. The planes soon arrived, dispatched their “flightseeing” passengers and we helped the pilots load gear. We squeezed 3 of us in the small back seat of a 1957 DeHavilland Beaver - a classic Alaskan bush plane. I questioned the wisdom of flying on a plane that was older that I was. But everything appeared up to date and well maintained.
We donned headsets with radios so we could communicate over the loud engines and were soon taking off. The area around Talkeetna is arctic tundra with many rivers braided through the landscape. I was surprised at the number of small cabins with no obvious roads or paths to reach them. I found out from the pilot you either come up the river in a boat, or get the Alaska Railroad to just stop and let you off near your cabin. Even then it looked like a 1-2 mile walk after that, although most people drive quad-runners.
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