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Trip: Wrangell Saint Ellas NP - Tana Glacier Date: 8/29/2007 Trip Report: Well this is a little late, bit George and I drove up to Alaska this summer to do some glacier crossing. We chose the Tana Glacier. It took us basically three days to go from Iceberg Lake to Ross Green Lake. Below are a few of the photos that I had that were under 1.2 MB in size. Somehow you can not upload larger pictures, and I am too cheep to purchase software to reduce my file size. Wrangell Air end up betting us beers that we would not make it across, the entire time we could swear there were hop fields growing on the opposite side of the glacier, so we knew there were beers in our future. Well we made it, but somehow we ended up supplying out own beer! Below we already crossed the first arm of the Tana Glacier, and we are on our way to the more sporting Main ice river of the glacier. Here is a picture of George ready to have 14 hours of fun, finding the route across the two mile wide glacier. Here is a great picture of the Glacier we crossed from a spectacular vantage point. Wow, check out the silty water! Gear Notes: 4 ice screws Rope Crampons Ice tools Approach Notes: Fly

Trip: Denali - Denali Diamond Date: 6/19/2007 Trip Report: At Colin's and others' request, I'm posting as a trip report an email I already sent out to friends, with a few additional photos added. Enjoy. -MW We flew to Kahiltna base camp on June 2nd and over the next several days ascended the west buttress of Denali to the 14,300 foot basin. We arrived here with 3 days of food. We would leave 10 days later with at least 4 times that amount. On our 9th day on the mountain, we went from 14 to the summit on a nice day… joined by over 100 other folks who had camped up at 17,000'! Here's the fixed lines two days earlier: Although it was a surreal experience, it was actually the first time I had ever summitted Denali by this route, and I have to say I enjoyed it plenty despite the crowds. As always, Colin enjoyed himself too: Two days later, Colin joined the extreme ski team and climbed the upper West Rib to the summit and skied the Orient Express in his mountaineering boots and miniature skis, while I gave an exertion cough I had developed some opportunity to recover. In ensuing days, the ski team went on to ski the Messner, Rescue, Orient, and numerous other steep chutes on both the north and south peaks of the mountain, taking advantage of some of the best ski conditions in many years on these features. A stretch of mostly good weather during this week also allowed our friends John (Jedi) and Evan to climb the Cassin Ridge in 3 days after they took a chance on an ambiguous forecast that yielded bomber high mountain weather. Their successes were contagious and fired us up. On the evening of the 16th, we descended to our "basecamp" at 7,800' at the junction of the northeast fork, and the following evening left this camp for our planned route: the Denali Diamond, a 3500' granite wall left of the Cassin Ridge. The route then continues up an additional 4500 feet of steep snow terrain alongside, then on, the upper Cassin Ridge. We made rapid progress up the northeast fork despite unfrozen snow conditions and reached the bivouac crevasse at the foot of the Cassin Ridge in 5 ½ hours from 7,800'. We spent the day resting as light snow fell and visibility remained limited, but a forecast for 2, possibly 3 days of sunny skies and high pressure kept us optimistic. At midnight that night, the clouds evaporated and we began climbing. We simul climbed a half dozen easy pitches of snow and ice to where the wall steepened. I then led several easy to moderate mixed pitches with some simul climbing. The route unfolded beautifully, with astounding rock quality and well iced chimneys and grooves that provided continuously stellar climbing. Colin led a block of pitches up some wonderful mixed terrain that brought us to the "Diamond", an enormous block that dominates the wall. I then led a very steep squeeze chimney filled with ice, followed by a difficult mixed pitch. Soon we found ourselves entering the final crux corner system that leads to the snowfields hanging above. Colin led two very steep waterfall pitches (5+) which held sustained and continuous 90 degree sections. I thought these quite reminiscent in terms of difficulty and quality to the "Shaft" on the Moonflower of Mt. Hunter. The first of these leaned left and actually overhung in places, requiring some delicate and technical stemming: The second pitch began with a short but technical M6 mixed step, followed by relentlessly vertical but excellent ice. As with everything we had climbed to this point, the protection and rock quality was absolutely superb, allowing us to focus entirely on the climbing, and maximizing our enjoyment. A short ramble above the second step led us to the infamous crux pitch. To the right, the FA party's notorious 25 foot, A3 roof loomed. This looked very intimidating. Just left of this was an even worse looking chimney (unclimbed): Just a bit further to the left, the main corner continued above as a 40 meter, vertical, inside corner, with no ice. This pitch, climbed by the 2nd and 3rd ascent parties, had never been freed, but was estimated at M7. The plentiful cracks assured us that it would go one way or another, but at this point in the day (15 hours) our primary goal was simply getting the rope up there. We brewed up some water as the afternoon sun began to blaze upon us- our timing was working out as hoped, climbing the hardest part in the warm sun. Colin started up and the climbing proved quite hard. After 20 meters of mixed free and aid, he belayed, to recover some pieces that would be needed above. I belayed from a fully hanging stance while Colin worked out more mixed free and aid climbing to another belay 30 meters higher. Following with both packs was a major pumpfest. Above, instead of the easy terrain we were now hoping for, we were treated to 2 more pitches of M5-ish climbing in icy, awkward chimneys, before we abruptly exited into the massive snowfield paralleling the upper Cassin Ridge, at about 16,000'. It was 9 PM, hour 21 since leaving the base. Although the Alaska Range was surrounded on all sides by enormous thunderheads, the weather up here was beautiful and windless, a perfect day to be on this huge face. Finding only hard ice and thin snowcover, we were forced to climb another 600 feet to find snow deep enough to obtain a tent ledge without having to chop into ice. Both of us were now very dehydrated and therefore pretty much knackered; as such, this last section of "easy" climbing was, for me at least, the mental crux of the whole climb, and I had to dig deep. Once settled in the tent we could begin repairing the deficit we'd put ourselves in, brewing up much water and eating a good meal. We then slept soundly in Colin's custom 2 person sleeping bag; between this bag and the BD firstlight tent, our bivi setup weighed almost nothing yet allowed us enough comfort to get a good rest. Day 2 was bright and sunny, so we slept in and did not begin climbing until 2 PM. This day was like a whole different climb: all snow climbing, and at altitude. We broke trail in variable snow conditions for over 3 hours before finally joining the Cassin around 17,500'. Anticipating a cold, late evening summit, we stopped at 19,000' to brew up in the evening sun and prevent a repeat of the previous day's dehydration. Smoke from lightning caused fires began to infiltrate the mountains, but otherwise it was relatively warm and beautiful. At 9:45 PM we stood alone on the summit in a cold stiff wind, happy it was now all downhill from here. Our time on the 8000 foot face was 45 hrs, 40 minutes, and this was the route's 5th ascent. At just after midnight we reached the tent and food we'd left behind at 14,000 on the west buttress. The weather shut down the following afternoon. I love it when the timing is this perfect. We remained on the mountain for another week: me at Kahiltna basecamp with Lisa, Colin at 14,000 in hopes of some further climbing; but, the weather would not allow it. On the positive side, with the right connections, Mountain High Pizza Pie delivers to basecamp in 90 minutes or less: Gear Notes: Standard alpine rack to 3", 6 screws (mostly 13's), handful of pins of all types, lots of slings, a light pack, and a good weather forecast. Approach Notes: The Northeast fork of the Kahiltna is always a heads-up experience, but don't let rangers or British climbers tell you it's near-impossible. Go look for yourself, move fast, and use common sense.

Trip: Backside Glacier- Alaska Range - Date: 4/11/2007 Trip Report: Backside Glacier, Alaska Range, AK April 11-24, 2007 Mike Bromberg, Ben Traxler W Ridge Mt. Grosvenor and various attempts Recent activity on the southern end of the Ruth Gorge captured our attention and enticed us to explore new routes and ski mountaineering potential of the large peaks on the western side of the gorge via the seldom visited ‘Backside Glacier’. Located west of the Great Gorge and unnamed on most maps, the Backside Glacier affords access to the large peaks Mt. Bradley, Mt. Wake, Mt. Johnson, Mt. Grosvenor and Mt. Church by their comparatively tame western rampart. The lower angle glaciated slopes and sweeping westerly ridgelines appeared the perfect venue for numerous Alaska sized ski mountaineering objectives. Backed by Mountain Fellowship Fund grant from the American Alpine Club, on April 11, Ben Traxler (Boulder, CO) and I were flown into the Backside Glacier by Paul Roderick of Talkeetna Air Taxi. This being our first visit to the range, we were surprised and admittedly a little intimidated, to learn that in the veteran pilot’s many years of experience, we were the first party to be delivered onto the Backside Glacier. Our first several days were spent exploring route options and evaluating the unstable snow conditions at lower elevations and on the unnamed peaks to the west. The dry and cold February and March weather contributed to unstable snow conditions with cohesive snow perched atop of a 15cm layer composed of greater than 5mm advanced facets (like Colorado depth Hoar near the snow surface!), producing some alarmingly large collapses but no significant avalanche activity. After skiing up the glacier and making a ski descent from 8,500 ft on the West Face of Mt. Dickey we directed our attention to our first objective, the West ridge of Mt. Wake. Ascending the low angle glacier to gain the west ridge proper, we climbed low fifth class rock and moderate rock and technical post-holing to 65 degrees before being thwarted by unstable snow and rock with Butterfinger® like characteristics in a prominent notch at 7,600 ft, just below Mt Wake’s glaciated summit dome. Descending near our route of ascent, we discovered a more direct couloir up to 50 degrees in steepness. The following day, we skied south toward ‘Backside Lake’ and attempted the S face of Mt Church in low visibility weather. After crossing several massive old wet slides, we ascended fully isothermal snow to the glacier between Mt Grosvenor and Mt Church, skiing to just below the prominent Church-Grosvenor Col, before retreating as inclement weather and complete lack of visibility began to take hold. From the Church-Grosvenor col, the route intersects the South Face on Mt Grosvenor (III 55 degrees, Walsh-Westman, 2005) Making the most of several weather induced ‘rest-days’ we skied a few of the numerous E facing couloirs to 50 degrees off the unnamed summit 6,500 ft bordering the west side of ‘Backside Glacier’. This summit is likely unclimbed and would make a nice short daytrip from basecamp. As high pressure began to take hold on April 21, we focused our attention on the West Ridge of Mt Grosvenor and under clear skies, we skied and climbed the snowy ridge (to 50 degrees), before intersecting the striking summit pyramid. From here we climbed the SW face via moderate rock and snow to 75 degrees before again intersecting the South Face route (Westman/Walsh 2005) below the first of two prominent fingers near the summit. We descended the route of ascent on skis encountering perfect ski conditions with brilliant exposure and striking views of Mt. Huntington, The Rooster Comb and Denali. Upon return, we both agreed that this elegant line is comparable in commitment to the West Face of Mt Dickey and only slightly more technical. (West Ridge, Mt Grosvenor, III 65 degrees) After succeeding on one of our main objectives, we spent our last several days exploring lines on a peak we named ‘False Bradley’, a prominent snow dome that dominates the head of the glacier in the 747 pass area, which in reality is only a false summit on the Mt Bradley massif. Our first attempt was to ski a striking 1500’ couloir we dubbed ‘the pencil’. Ascending on foot, through old avalanche debris with an unwelcome greeting of falling rock from above, we retreated after only climbing the first half. On the descent we encountered what I consider to be perhaps the worst snow I have ever skied, in one of the most beautiful lines I have ever attempted. On our final day, we skied again to the base of ‘False Bradley’ to attempt a mixed line in a 2000’ X shaped cleft. Just prior to roping up, we encountered a trio of Japanese climbers who had descended the West face of Mt Bradley and had bivouacked just below our route. The liveliest of the three greeted us warmly through broken English and modestly described their achievements with a new route on the E side as well as their equally impressive descent line. We wished them the best for their inevitable post-holing adventure over 747 pass before continuing with our line. Taking the rightmost line of the X, we climbed 600’ of mixed terrain to WI5 M5 before retreating due to the garbage chute nature of the warming route, and a mishap with a malfunctioning ice screw racking system. Overall, the Backside Glacier offers many possibilities for moderate ridge climbs in a superb setting, perfect for those looking for seldom explored and/or new route possibilities. Mid-April or earlier seems to be the most appropriate time to visit this area, as we experienced a significant shed cycle on solar aspects towards the end of our trip. The skiing possibilities remain limitless, although your safety in this area is entirely contingent on your ability to assess snow conditions as most routes involve prime avalanche terrain. Many obvious routes remain unclimbed and each summit has seen only and handful of ascents. With convenient base camp locations and easy access, the Backside Glacier is perfect for a short foray into the range, a multi-day adventure from the Gorge over 747 pass, or a shuttle trip from another nearby destination. For logistical support and knowledgeable air service for this area, contact Paul Roderick of Talkeetna Air Taxi. Lastly, Ben and I would like to express our gratitude for being chosen as recipients of a Mountain Fellowship Fund Grant. Without which, the expedition would not have been possible. Mike Bromberg Crested Butte, CO Gear Notes: SKIS!

Trip: Alaska - Explorer Peak 3440'; North Glacier to West Ridge Date: 4/21/2007 Trip Report: In an effort to balance my spray I thought I'd contribute a TR. It is spring here but some of us don't want to put up the skis yet so we opted for a ski ascent of a peak an hour south of town. Explorer Peak is on 3440' but you start at sea level and it offers glacier travel, a fun ridge, some cornice action and a 3000' ski decent. The route begins with moderate glacier travel up to a bench just west of the summit. From the bench you boot up the ridge staying threading the line between the massive cornices that hang over the south face and the deep snow overtop of rock on the north face. From the summit you retrace your ascent path back to the bench and then ski down. The route is a classic early season shake down trip that forces you to do things like dig out the glacier gear that's been buried since July. In good conditions you could do the trip in around 5 hours; we encountered really deep snow on the ridge so it took us 8 hours. It's a good afternoon for anyone headed to Alaska for the big mountains! More pix and a map here. Gear Notes: Skis, pickets, ice axe and goggles (the weather always sucks there) Approach Notes: The glacier is less than a mile from the car so there's really no approach.

Trip: Abercrombie Peak - SW Face (First Ascent) Date: 3/20/2007 Trip Report: Colin Haley and I skied up the Valdez Glacier to the base of the 1450 meter SW Face of Abercrombie Peak (circa 2130 meters) on March 19. The forecast was for "a major change in the weather pattern" to hit in a day, so we knew we would be racing the weather. We left camp under clear skies at 6:40 on March 20 and climbed steps of water ice and mixed terrain to around WI4- and 5.4b. Although we wore harnesses and carried a rope and some rack, we never used it. Good training, I guess. We reached the summit at 15:00 in a whiteout and began the descent. We reached camp at 19:00 and coaxed enough water out of our dying gas cylinder for a Ramen each. We were very pleased that we had gone high class and brought Maruchan rather than Top for this recovery meal. We believe this to be the first ascent of the face. Some photos are at http://59A2.org/valdez/200703/

Trip: Mt. Huntington - Nettle-Quirk Date: 3/12/2007 Trip Report: On March 10th, Jed Brown (Fairbanks, Alaska) and I flew from Talkeetna to the Tokositna Glacier below Mt. Huntington. On March 12th we climbed to the summit of Mt. Huntington via the West Face Couloir (Nettle-Quirk), and descended via the same route, in just under 15 hours roundtrip. We believe this might have been the first ascent of Huntington during the winter season. Although many teams descend from the top of the ice ramp, we found it to only be half-way to the summit, in terms of time and effort. Conditions and weather were excellent, although the temperatures were quite cold; we both frostnipped a few digits. After a few days contemplating other objectives, we gave in to the cold nights and flew out of the range on March 16th. A few lessons learned: -bring two pee bottles instead of one -bring mittens that you can actually do technical climbing in -bring a face mask that covers your nose -bring a sleeping bag rated to -30F instead of -10F -bring a larger than 2-person tent to basecamp -bring a thermarest to basecamp -muffins are very difficult to bite at -20F -bring basecamp down booties -don't go to Alaska before April!

Trip: Yukla Peak (6000' sub peak) - Chugach Mountains - Gank'd and Slay'd - 2800', V, WI6, M6, A2 Date: 2/10/2007 Trip Report: John Kelley and I made the hike out to the Icicle Valley from the Eagle River Nature Center again last week in an effort to attempt another new route on Mount Yukla. The hike out there took us just under eight hours and involved a little bit of fourth-class terrain once we accessed the Icicle Drainage. We arrived at the boulder bivy site at about 12:30 at night and set up camp. The entire next day we relaxed and rested in preparation for our coming climb. At 3:30 in the morning on Thursday, we were up and heading out to the base of our objective. After 700 feet of third-classing steep snow and grade-three ice, we reached the fork where the three routes split. Our original intent had been to go for the left trending ramp, but we decided upon reaching the fork to go for the ice line on the right, which had already seen several attempts by other parties. Instead of starting on the ice at the base of the climb (which looked grade 3-ish from far away but looked very thin and unprotectable from up close), we decided to gain the route from a ramp just to the climber’s left of it. I led up the ramp, which was perfect styrofoam ice. The ramp ended in a 15-20 foot tall rock headwall. I attempted to get over it and was able to get most of the way up it (mostly 5.9ish laybacks), but was thwarted up high by down sloping rock and poor feet. After trying in vain for roughly an hour, I had John lower me and give it a go. He quickly got to my highpoint and decided it would have to be aided. He placed a few bird beaks (one of which blew out on him) and pitons and after about an hour was able to get through the crux moves. He followed the narrow chimney up to the rope’s end and set up a belay. He hauled the bags while I jugged up and cleaned. Once I got up there, he gave me the rest of the rack and after sorting it, I was on my way, already on virgin ground. It was getting dark by this point, so we were definitely looking for a bivy spot. I led up a narrow snow chimney to a thin WI4 step. “Not so bad,” I thought. Upon getting to the top of the step, I saw I was in for quite a pitch. It had snowed just enough to make things annoying, and all the cracks and holds were covered. I scratched and picked my way up to the base of another snow filled rock chimney. I went right initially, and got about 10 feet up and couldn’t find any protection. The holds became nonexistent and I was facing a 20+ foot whipper into a shoulder wide chimney that would not end well. My last piece was a snarg hammered into some frozen veggies. I doubted it would hold. I considered retreat, but decided that I needed to man up and go for it. Once I had my man pants on again, I down climbed 10 feet and went left. After a few desperate and dicey moves, I was up and over the technical crux of that pitch, which went at M6. I scratched my way up to a belay and spotted a good bivy site 20 feet below and to the right. 20 minutes later we were shoveling out a small, protected ledge for our first night on the wall. After a cramped night on the small ledge, we brewed some water and were on our way again. John took the first pitch of the day over a sketchy dihedral to a right trending corner system, then up a slough gully to a rock outcrop where he set up a belay. I followed and on the way up, my tool popped off my harness while I jugged up. (Note: do not use those stupid Ice Clippers, they fucking suck) Luckily John had a third tool, so we were able to continue. I took the next lead over a grade-three ice step and was sloughed on the entire time. After getting through that, I climbed steep snow to the base of a grade three ice pitch. I led up the ice without any difficulties and set up a belay for John. We were sure we were getting close to the top. At this point in time, we were racing the light. “This is probably it,” he said, in reference to the next pitch that he was going to lead. With that, he took the rack and started up the ice, which appeared to be grade-five from the bottom. With almost no pro and long run outs, he got near the top and was faced with thin overhanging ice with unconsolidated snow above that. He placed two equalized screws and pumped himself up for the committing moves. “I guess I’ll just go for it, “ he said, and with a couple impressive moves he dominated his way up the crux ice pitch, which went at WI6 due to its thin condition and unprotected run out, all mixed together with the 15 foot overhanging section under a powder snow mushroom. John got to the top and let out a triumphant scream. “We must be near the top,” I thought. Once I got up there, I saw that we still had a few pitches to go. We traversed right over a snow slope that would be atrociously dangerous in different conditions and began digging a snow cave for our second bivy on the face. Although our bags were soaking wet and our food was low, we remained decently comfortable and kept ourselves entertained by spitting out songs and lyrics from NWA and Easy E. We awoke in the morning and got going. The weather had finally turned in our favor and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Anxiously, we packed up, and John took the WI3 pitch, which we knew would put us close to the top. It was a rope stretcher, literally, and I had to lean forward just so John would have enough rope to reach a belay. The rope got caught on a rock and I had an interesting pendulum swing and drop when it popped off of the rock as I jugged up the rope and freed the packs that had been caught on an outcrop. This pitch put us on top. We were very excited and packed everything up, then headed towards the 6000-foot sub peak of Yukla. We descended down the Northeast Ridge back down the Icicle Glacier to our camp at the boulder bivy. Tired, but determined, we left our camp at 5:30 and were back at the car by 10:30. This was John’s third new route on Yukla within the past year (AAJ 2006) and my second attempt on the peak. Our route Gank’d and Slay’d, went at 2,800’, V, M6, WI6 A2. Gear Notes: Full set of cams, Nuts, 4 Lost Arrows, 4 Bugs, 4 Angles, 1-2 Snargs, Smokes, Don't use those stupid clippers on alpine routes unless you want to lose your tools

John Kelly has been attempting several new routes on Yukla over the past year. He already put up a new route on the Northwest face earlier in 2005 and has tried several others since. I finally got a chance to join him on an attempt at a line on the Northeast face. Our line is just barely visible under the snowfield on the far left Another better view of our route, which is just to the left of the obvious white smear under the snowfield on the left. Yukla, first climbed in 1967 via the Icicle Glacier by famed Alaskan mountaineer Art Davidson (first winter ascent of Denali and auther of the book 'Minus 148') sees little traffic due to its hearty approach and difficult access, and has probably seen less than 25 ascents, even though it is only 8 miles from the road. At a height of over 7500 feet, it is the fourth highest mountain in the western Chugach, and dominates the skyline around Eagle River. The Northwest face is one of the biggest walls in the entire Chugach, and is still, for the most part, virgin...with the exception of two or three routes. I flew back to Anchorage on Saturday, December 31st at 8 AM and was on the trail by 2 PM. We bushwacked through the tedious Icicle Drainage and finally arrived at our first bivy site in the valley at 2:30 in the morning...a great place to bring in the new year. On the way to the drainage, we met a nice girl sitting alone at the Echo Bend camp who hooked us up with some great...stuff. We really owe that girl, she made the rest of the approach go easier. We woke up the next morning in true Alaskan style, and were on the go by noon. We simulclimbed up the snow fan to the base of the virgin Northeast face and spent the next three hours chopping out an awesome bivy ledge on a 60 degree slope, 500 feet over the valley floor. All the while, small sluff avalanches continued to pour over our route-to-be. John leading pitch two. We awoke at 4:30 the next morning and were climbing well before six. It finally started getting light at 9 and we were up the first two pitches by then. John lead most of the hard pitches, which consisted of M5-M6 climbing with overhanging rock and long runouts at parts. His most amazing lead took place at the chimney, on the fifth pitch. He started at 2:45, and spent the next 2.5 hours meticulously inching his way up the virgin terrain while I belayed and shivered inside the cave. By 5:30 it was dark and John had finally lead his way up the crux and had established a belay station. After tediously following John's line and cleaning the pro, I unlodged his pack from the overhanging section and he hauled it the rest of the way up and I carefully finished the crux, wishing I could have watched him lead what he called "one of the most amazing pitches of his life," big words coming from John, who has done some big climbs in his day, to say the least, We knew we were getting close to the top of the face, where we would meet up with a lower angled snowfield which would allow us to top out and then walk off on the Icicle Glacier and then back to our high camp. I led the next pitch, which started off in a narrow hourglass below a five foot tall rock buttress that steepened to a steep snow slope, then to a 20 foot step of WI3 crumbly ice with crappy protection. I put in one snarg and a 16cm screw and continued climbing. I slowly climbed up the couloir in seemingly endless unconsolidated powder snow that dissolved whenever my hands or feet touched it, and ran down right onto John. For several hours, I went left and right, up and down, diagonal and zigzag, trying to find suitable places for some protection...but there was none. The cracks were seemingly nonexistant, all to common on the Chugach rock. I managed to get in one #3 stopper at the base of a seemingly gravity defying vertical wall of powder snow that was about 15-20 feet high and had a 5 foot tall overhanging powder mushroom on the top. I stuggled in vein for several hours, trying to find more protection and a way to surmount the powder wall. If I had had better pro in the walls, I feel I could have gotten up the wall, but I was not willing to take a lead fall on a poorly placed stopper with at least a 100 foot runout behind it. The lights of Anchorage illuminating the sky At about midnight on the 2nd, we decided to can it and retreat, figuring we were close, but still had another pitch or two to go. It was a dissapointing defeat, especially when we saw how close we were to being finished and getting our names on a new route. We spent the next 5-6 hours making a total of six rappels. I had lost my cell phone in the cave on pitch five and was convinced I would never find it again...oddly enough it was waiting for me at rappel station number four...how it stopped right there I will never know. We got back to our high camp at six in the morning, planning on walking back down to the boulder camp and sleeping there...we woke up at 10 AM with our feet sticking out of the tent and we weren't even in our sleeping bags. I still had my helmet on. We had been climbing for 24 hours straight, had both consumed less than 2 liters of water during that time, and had hardly eaten anything. For me, it was my first big experience in alpine climbing and I learned a lot. For John it was another defeat on the walls of Yukla. You can clearly see our line. It follows right up the middle, through the chimney, and then to the hourglass snow couloir. Our highpoint was just at the base of the hourglass. In different conditions, that powdersnow headwall might be easier to surmount, but conditions weren't favoring it at that time. From there it is merely a walk up. John really deserves most of the credit for the climb. He lead the hard pitches and was patient with me as I learned the ropes. If time allows, we might go back and finish the line in February. Last March, John and his friend Dan completed first ascent of the Heritage wall on Heritage Point in Eagle River, which was featured in the American Alpine Journal.

Chad Kellogg and I spent a few weeks in the remote Kichatna Mountains of the Alaska Range. We managed to climb Kichatna Spire by a new route. This was the eighth ascent of the mountain by its seventh route to the summit. The Black Crystal Arête is the first route to tackle the peak’s southern aspect by climbing the slender ridge that splits its south and east faces. Kichatna Spire from the Shadows Glacier. Aerial view of Kichatna Spire from the south. Paul Roderick flew us into the Shadows Glacier on the evening of July 6. Immediately upon landing we went for the route but were turned around by rain. On the third day we made a second attempt only to be stopped on pitch four by more rain. After spending 5 hours with our feet in plastic garbage bags we pulled the plug and rappelled back to the ground. A few more days of bad weather came and went as we scouted other route possibilities. Finally a splitter two day weather window arrived and we were off and running. We left in the morning of July 11 and made our way quickly to the base of the spire’s south arête. The first six pitches climbed the east wall of the feature. However, what had been dry rock before, was now drifted in with fresh snowfall from the previous day’s storm. What had been relatively straight forward pitches became quite tedious. Pitch 2 proved to be the first crux. I led a small wet roof, followed by a thin detached flake led to a super mantle-reach. Delicate moves with thin gear above a ledge finally moved into more positive terrain. Chad following up the east wall. Once on the ridge proper, a few gendarmes provided interesting route finding. The first major one we climbed in three pitches and were able to traverse around its right side just 50’ from its top. Climbing along the ridge crest. The Sunshine Glacier is in the distance. A short downclimb off the backside, led to the “Ore Chasm” – a 5-foot wide cleft that require a wide stem. The first gendarme. Chad can be seen down climbing toward the “Ore Chasm”. A few easier pitches led to another gendarme only passable by a rotten chimney on its right side. Chad led up the “Bombay’s Away” pitch – named after a huge booger of rock five times his size that flushed out of the chimney as he climbed up and stood on top of it. Unscathed, he continued aiding and climbing up huge overhanging flakes to the top. The actual ridge was pretty short lived, however, as it completely dead-ended into the upper south face. The only way to continue seemed to be a set of horizontal twin seems that led out left. Gaining instant 2,000+-foot exposure, Chad led across the thin traverse to the base of another nasty looking chimney. Chad leading the key horizontal traverse high on the route. I got the next pitch – a vertical ice-smeared chimney we dubbed “Icebox Desperado”. It might have been a brilliant M6 pitch had we had crampons and ice-tools. But with only rock shoes it proved to be an interesting mix of aid and free up disintegrating ice filled cracks. This gave way to slightly easier terrain and after a few more pitches we crested the summit ridge, just 200 horizontal feet from the true summit. We topped out on a beautiful, albeit smoky, evening, as we watched the sun make its long descent towards Mt. Foraker. On the summit looking northwest. A view to the west. Middle Triple peak is on the left. We sat on the warm and windless summit for about 45 minutes, before starting the long and dreaded descent. The 2nd rappel. We rappelled throughout the night. The crux was having to repeat a few of the key traverses with frozen fingers and toes. Repeating the key traverse just after midnight. About 20 rappels later, we returned to the Shadows glacier just in time for the sun to warm us up again. A short stroll back to camp and we were back just 25 and half hours after starting. We named our route after the most amazing black rock crystals we found on the summit ridge, some of which were upwards of 2 feet long! The next 10 days or so we spent attempting the Citadel. We spent a week in a portaledge on the peak’s east face, but were thwarted by weather and bad rock. We also made another single-push attempt on its unclimbed south ridge, but we fell short of the summit by about 800-feet (that might be considered a new route by some people. ha!) We knew our time on the glacier was drawing to an end with the rapid recession of the fern line toward our landing spot. Soon we would be camped on top of ice and after another week, we may not have been able to be picked up. So we packed it up, dialed Paul on the Sat phone and headed home.

Long TR. Warning - big words ahead!. You can skip to the end and read the three line summary if you're in a hurry. Pictures to follow when I get them back from the lab. Cheers, Ade Good times on Good Neighbor Peak In May 1993 I met Bill Pilling and Karl Dietrich in Yakutat, AK. I was one of a team of four who had just completed the forth ascent of Mount Augusta (14,070’) while they had put up a new route on the south summit of Mount Vancouver, Good Neighbor Peak (15,500’). Bill wasn’t the World’s biggest advertisement for the route, despite having good things to say about it. He’d smashed his leg up in a crevasse fall on the descent and had just spent several days getting back to their basecamp. His leg was about twice this size it should have been and didn’t seem to bend so well. Now it had come full circle. Simeon and I had arrived on the Valerie Glacier the previous week recced the route and aclimatized by climbing a 1,500’ couloir on a 9800’ peak near our camp and the W face of Point 9695’. A further few days were then spent waiting for better weather. Simeon and I were now camped below the initial couloir on the S Spur at 8260’. We had four day’s food and fuel for maybe six days. Our plan to climb the route in three to four days and descend the 1967 Centennial Route (S Spur of the SE Ridge) in another day. The Mark Twight packing algorithm had been applied to the full and all extraneous gear had been left behind. It was now May 16th 2005. That afternoon we’d skied from our basecamp and descended a 600’ couloir to gain the glacier below Good Neighbor’s SW face. The whole thing didn’t get off to an auspicious start when the bergshrund completely collapsed on Simeon leaving him hanging in free space. Thankfully I had a good belay and we extracted ourselves from the whole mess. I found a rock anchor and after blowing some of our precious rappel tape was able to join him. We had briefly pondered how we were going to get back up the couloir, and then set off up the edge of the glacier to our proposed bivvi below the foot of the S Spur. Day 1 The following morning we awoke at 6am to find the tent clouded in. An hour later the weather had cleared somewhat and we set off up the initial couloir. The bergshrund at the base proved insurmountable but we were able to gain the couloir by climbing a gully to the left and then traversing some mixed ground. Simeon got the ball rolling and kicked steps up the already soft snow to the top of the couloir at around 9150’. The rock on the S Spur was rumored to be of dubious quality in places and came up with the goods. We simul-climbed the entire day trying to stick with the crest wherever possible, although employing slightly different tactics to deal with the looser sections. Simeon being of the leave it be school, whereas I’m firm believer in the Don “trundle” Serl ethic. We eventually found a reasonable bivvi spot at 10,630’. At this point the ridge becomes snowy and has some flat sculpted spots large enough for a Bibler. Traversing the final icy section to get to “bivvi nirvana” provided the opportunity for more entertainment when one of my crampons detached. I swore even more than usual while pondering the possibility of an exciting, if brief, final inspection of the S face. Simeon fixed up a belay and worried about the possibility of a forced retreat, albeit a slower one. Thankfully the strap had kept it hanging from my ankle and we were able to get our shit back together and make flatter ground where we anchored ourselves and the tent before settling in for the night. Day 2 We awoke to find it cloudy and colder with some wind. The inevitable wait for the sun on the tent ensued. Simeon and I aren’t exactly the best practitioners of the prompt alpine start and this route didn’t look like it was going to change things. This was probably the last point on the ridge at which retreat would be possible, as you could descend a snow couloir on the west side of the ridge. We were also able to spend some time looking at the SE Ridge descent route; it looked less than promising. There appeared to be a big break in the ridge at around 11,000’ where it became a jumble of seracs. Still, it had been climbed so presumably could be descended. Above 10,500’ the route moves to the west side of the ridge and climbs a couloir system for two thousand feet. We could see this from our tent, although getting into the base of the couloir from the ridge seemed tricky. Eventually we were forced to rappel into the couloir at about 11’000. Simeon set off up the couloir and disappeared into a narrow section about a hundred feet above me. It soon became apparent that things weren’t going quite as planned. “Bad words” started to float down to me from above. I swear like a drunken Glaswegian pretty much all the time when climbing but in Simeon’s case this is a bad sign. Above the gully had turned to a mixture of wet gravel, slush and poorly bonded wet ice. Its shale sidewalls offered little opportunity for protection. We were forced to simul-climb for several hundred additional feet until Simeon found something approximating to an anchor. I adopted a don’t ask, don’t tell policy on the anchor and continued up, finally finding a better one in the rock to the right as the couloir widened. I think we’d both had enough of couloir climbing long before it finally ended and were a tad upset to be confronted with more rock ridge. Time was pressing and with no bivvi spot in sight we pushed on, eventually we reached a snow rib at 12,700’ but no obvious flat spots. With a stiff wind blowing across the rib and the weather looking somewhat dubious we opted to try and pitch the Bibler on a chipped out ice ledge below the crest, which turned out to support about a third of the tent’s floor space. I’ve often wished that I could make my claustrophobic Bibler seem larger and frequently wondered what could be more foolish than using a gasoline stove inside it. After a night spent melting snow with the stove balanced on my knees and then sleeping in a fetal position in one of the two usable corners of the tent I think I have both questions nailed. Day 3 Needless to say the following day got off to an early start. Neither of us wanting to lounge around in a half pitched tent waiting for the sun. We skipped the next snow couloir, fearing a repeat of the previous day. The rock on the ridge became more solid but with harder climbing, eventually defeating us at a steep wall that looked like about 5.9 at sea level in rock shoes. We spent some time finding an anchor and then rapped into another couloir in our seemingly endless pursuit of the summit. On this occasion things proved better. We simul-climbed it for five or six hundred feet getting good gear most of the way and only finding a very short section without snow. I vaguely remembered the route description mentioning a knife edge ridge but as we pulled over the final rock section it still caught me a bit by surprise. Thankfully it wasn’t as corniced as it had been on the first ascent but still though provoking with big drops into the cloud on either side. We’d bought just enough screws, three, to make it all reasonably sensible and leapfrogged each other’s leads; sometimes balancing on the crest, sometimes shuffling astride it or traversing on the icier east side. Simeon finished the last rope length to the base of the serac below the summit slopes and I led another few hundred feet up the side of the serac and onto its upper slopes. We eventually made the promised flat bivvi spot on top of the serac at 14,300’ after 7 pm. We’d gotten super cold on the traverse and the final push up the side of the serac. Even after getting in the tent Simeon took a couple of hours to warm up. The Twight packing technique had denied us real belay jackets. Day 4 The weather was still concerning with cloud moving in and out throughout the day. Should it cloud in on our summit day navigation would be difficult. At least now we could see the rimed seracs that guarded the south side of the summit plateau. The ground below them seemed like it would be straightforward. Of course we’d failed to factor in the altitude, which had finally caught up with us. Simeon had felt nauseous and short of breath the previous night but thankfully seemed OK during the day. I kicked steps to a large crevasse 300’ above the bivvi. Above that the slope turned to hard ice. We simul-climbed some of it but for the most part were reduced to swinging rope lengths as it was just too tiring to move any faster and falling off seemed inadvisable. There’s something quite amazing about watching someone give it all they’ve got and then some more. Simeon ran his leads out half a dozen moves at a time before resting and going again. I expect my turns on the sharp end looked pretty much the same. Simeon put in a final lead and then ran out of gas just below the rime formations. A steep runnel led to the top of the seracs and hopefully flat ground. I did some Gu and moved up to Simeon to finish things off. We topped out at 2 pm, five and a half hours after leaving the tents. Above the lip of the serac the terrain abruptly became horizontal. The cloud gave us views along the ridge to Vancouver itself but that was about it. We ditched packs and postholed to the highest point on the lumpy summit crest. A few photos and congratulations on a job half done followed before we headed back to our gear and started to consider our descent options. A descent to the North a la Pilling and Dietrich seemed overly optimistic, especially considering the mediocre weather. So we stuck with our existing plan of heading down the SE Ridge. I figured we’d manage it somehow, even if things got tricky. We dropped down onto the N side of the SE Ridge to avoid some seracs and were immediately in knee deep unconsolidated powder. This seemed like very bad news but we hoped it was localized to north facing slopes. For most of the descent to the col on the SE Ridge we were able to stick to the ridge crest where the snow was much better. We pitched the tent at the col on a nice site dug into the ridge and started to sort our gear out for the night. Simeon confessed to being very tired and then, as if to emphasize the point threw up. Not a good sign, but at least we were going down not up. We crawled into our now icy Bibler and brewed up, hoping for clear weather for the descent the following day. The tent had been getting frostier and our sleeping bags damper by the day so we were now quite keen to be done with it. Day 5 Saturday dawned with a slight clearing in the weather but by the time we left the tent cloud was moving across the 14,300’ summit on the SE Ridge and seemed to be much thicker below us. We made it to the summit and then turned south to descend the spur. The unconsolidated snow from the previous day put in a very unwelcome reappearance and we trenched our way down the shallower slopes and down climbed the steeper ones. There were a few small crevasses but nothing major. Eventually the weather deteriorated to a few feet with increased snowfall and with no good idea exactly where we were on the descent we sat down and waited for it to clear. Apart from a few brief moments when we managed to move a few hundred yards we spent until 3 pm sitting on our packs waiting. We finally pitched the tent in the lee of an ice cliff to protect us from avalanches and sat in it periodically checking the weather. By 6 pm we resigned ourselves to another night in the Bibler and half of our remaining dried meal. Day 6 Thankfully the storm cleared and at 3.30am we were treated to a spectacular dawn. Keen to get down we were up and out within the hour. Clear skies greeted us and we were treated to incredible views of the whole Elias range from Mount Fairweather in the south to Mount St. Elias itself further north. In the poor conditions the previous day we had headed too far right and had stopped just in time. The slope below us dropped sharply off over a series of ice cliffs. We traversed back left and continued to trench our way down several thousand more vertical feet on the ridge. Eventually the it divided and we came to the top of an ice cliff that spanned the complete right hand spur. I started to dig a snow bollard with my axe, Simeon suggested we break out the shovel and things got serious. After much shoveling we excavated a bollard over five feet in diameter. I was more than glad of this as the rappel took us over a 40’ high serac that overhung by at least fifteen feet. The snow bridge at the base held and we were on what looked like easier ground. Below the serac the snow cover decreased to about four inches of new powder but it was sliding spontaneously. We belayed each other while down climbing lest a small slide pushed us off the side of the ridge. Another hour got us to the lower snow dome on the ridge at 10,500’ and past the worst of the technical difficulties. We continued to down climb, belaying each other in the more avalanche prone areas The last piece of excitement for the day came as we were descending the finally gully to the glacier. From the top it looked like a major terrain trap so we rapped off a thread to another anchor in an alcove half way down the gully. I had rapped a second rope length and was looking for an anchor when Simeon started yelling “Avalanche!” I hung on the ropes as a slide ripped down the center of the gully a few feet to my left. Thankfully Simeon hadn’t heard my “off rappel” call so was still in the alcove when the slide went past him. He descended and we traversed off right rather than descend below the gully. Another hour brought us back to our original bivvi and a cache of fuel and food we’d left. After a few hours rehydrating, eating and gloating we hiked down the glacier and managed to climb the original couloir we’d descended after some brief shenanigans with the bergshrund. Paul Swanstrom flew us on the next morning and less than twenty four hours after completing the descent we were drinking beers in Haines. Summary An ascent of Good Neighbor Peak, 15,500’ (AK 4+, 5.5, AI 3+). Third ascent of the route and first British ascent over a period of six days in May 2005. The exact height of Good Neighbor is subject of some debate, although the Mount Vancouver is almost certainly higher, the quoted heights for Good Neighbor vary from 15,500’ to 15,700’. Ascents of W face of Point 9695’ and E face couloir on a minor peak (approx) 9800’ near our BC. References: Route description in “Alaska a Climbing Guide”, Michael Wood & Colby Coombs, p 170. Account of the first ascent in the American Alpine Journal (AAJ, 1994, p87-9). A useful summary of previous ascents of Mount Vancouver and Good Neighbor Peak can be found in the American Alpine Journal (AAJ, 2004, p216-7). Accounts of the first ascent of the Centennial Route (S Spur of the SE Ridge) can be found in the Canadian and American Alpine Journals (CAJ, 1968, p34-41 & AAJ, 1968, p36-9).

Sorry this is a little long winded, but what else am I going to do at work? On Tuesday May 10th after our second attempt in as many days Gordy Smith and I summated Mt. Marcus Baker via a new route (Sanctuary Ridge). Gordy had come to me a couple of months earlier to see if I was interested in a new route up Mt. Marcus Baker. I was, and after seeing his recon pictures of the route, became convinced that even though this was a rock ridge in a range notable for its horrible quality of rock, this route could be done safely by bypassing areas of poor rock on faces below the ridge. Our trip started just 4 days earlier when we left Seattle on Saturday Morning. The flight to Anchorage was amazing with clear skies the entire way allowing rare glimpses of Mt. Logan, Mt. Fairweather and the perennially socked in Mt. St. Elias. Our approach into Anchorage also had the benefit of giving us a clear view of our objective summit, although we were viewing from the south so we were not able to see our planned route. We had no problems with transportation, bags or picking up of last minute provisions, and arrived in Talkeetna by 5 pm under clear skies. When we walked into our flight service office we were asked to get our stuff together so they could fly us in as soon as possible. We quickly packed and were in the plane 45 minutes later. Approximately 12 hours after leaving Seattle we were sitting on an isolated glacier approximately 80 miles East North East of Anchorage at 7000 ft elevation. After setting up camp, cooking, and sorting all our gear we took an inventory of all the things we had left in the rental car in our rush to pack. Luck had it that only one of these items (the handle for the shovel) was a potentially critical error, but due to good weather, turned out to be more of an inconvenience rather than a real issue. Other items left behind included nuts, and oatmeal. The following morning we packed our gear and started skiing east up the glacier to a small col that overlooked the Matanuska Glacier to the East. This col is the base of a rocky ridge that climbs 2000 ft to a glacier that makes up the summit plateau of Mt. Marcus Baker. Realizing that the climbing looked technically difficult and our pack were quite heavy, we decided to stash our gear and recon a route through the crux of the ridge which appeared to be quite close to the bottom. We headed up 50 degree ice on the east side of the ridge for approximately 400 ft and gained the crest of the ridge. From here we made an anchor (consisting of a single nut in a crack) and began scouting the rock above. I climbed just to the left of the ridge crest for about 50 ft only to come to a vertical section of shattered and horribly loose rock. After climbing back down to the anchor I headed up to the right of the anchor in a slight gully on mostly rock with patchy snow. Again after 75 ft I was stopped by very poor rock conditions. My decision to turn around at this point did not stem from the fear of pulling rock down on myself, but more in the total inability to build any sort of a safe anchor in which to retreat from if we were stopped higher up. I had decided that Gordy’s Route was not going to go in its current conditions, at least not by me. We down climbed back to the ridge and sat in the sun mulling our limited options on the steep north side of the peak. The previous evening upon landing on the glacier we had noticed another potential line in what at first glance appeared to be a giant serac threatened face. We walked up the mellow angled ridge on the north of the col to get a better view of the line and see if it would go. From this angle it now appeared to be a fairly low angled ridge that continued all the way from the basin which our camp was in, to the broad low angled west ridge of Mt. Marcus baker at 10,800 ft. With our spirits a little brighter we skied (skied for me is a relative term, which roughly translates to uncontrolled sliding on slippery sticks followed by face plants powered by the weight of a 35 lb pack) back to camp. We cooked dinner, melted snow for water, and tried to get to sleep early. The following morning we were up around 6. We left camp by 7 after an hour of melting more snow, getting dressed, applying sunscreen, filling pockets with food, etc. The previous night we had made the decision to try for the summit in a single push from camp. This would limit the loads we had to carry on the lower part of the ridge, but make for a long day. We carried enough to keep us alive over night just in case we did not make it back to camp. This included down jackets, plenty of food, and most importantly a stove for melting more water when we ran out. We skied directly south from our camp zigzagging up the slope and around crevasses to a point approximately 1000 ft above our camp, and directly below a large ice wall that gained an almost horizontal ridge several hundred feet above us. At this point we took off our skis and donned crampons. I led out and crossed a poorly bridged crevasse and gained the lower section of the ice wall below the horizontal ridge. I crossed over a sub ridge and did a climbing traverse to the right side of the main ridge. From here we continued very close to the crest of the ridge through calf deep snow crossing bridged crevasses on the ridge with little difficulty. After 1200 ft of 30-40 degree snow slogging we reached an open crevasse which we had spotted from camp as being a potential problem. It was still bridged, albeit poorly, and after punching my feet through, gave up walking across and swung my tools over to the higher side, and pulled the rest of my body over. Gordy made a similar move to get across this the only real technical difficulty of the lower ridge. This is also the only place where we placed any protection to protect us from falls. Above this the climbing steepened for 400 feet and became hard ice and neve snow. At 10,800 ft we gained the west ridge of Mt. Marcus Baker. From this point we walked along the mellow wind blown ridge with amazing views to either side. The ridge was good cramponing over hard snow and ice. Between us and the summit pinnacle lay a sub peak labled on the USGS maps as 12,200 ft. We climbed up this peak on hard ice up to 50 degrees, and reached the top with our altimeters reading 12,000 ft. (Our altimeter read accurately on the summit, which made us believe that the altitude of this peak is inaccurate on the map). From the top of this peak we dropped down about 450 ft to the base of the summit pinnacle. Gordy and I dropped our packs and had a short conversation about how tired we were and the possibility of spending the night out (which would have sucked). After agreeing that we had plenty of food, water, and clothing we continued to the summit. We climbed up and right on hard ice. The ice gradually steepened to about 70 degrees and then suddenly fell back for the final few feet of walking to the summit. At 4 pm we were standing on the summit under clear, but brown hazy skies which limited visibility (we believe a fire near Homer was the reason for most of the haziness). After taking a few photos we quickly began our descent. We descended by setting tools as anchors and lowering the first and then having the second down climb the ice. After six rope lengths the angle was easy enough to walk facing out and down. Due to the soft snow on the lower ridge we were able to walk face out for much of the ridge which speeded our descent considerably. Still we did not reach our skis until close to dark. After crashing repeatedly down the final 1000ft we reached camp at midnight. My overall impression of the route is very good. Both Gordy and I believe this is a very viable alternative to the standard Matanuska or Knik Glacier routes. Not only is it shorter, but it is a very enjoyable route. Part of the lower ridge allows close up views of huge hanging glaciers and high rise building size seracs, without the fear that they will fall on you. All of the ridge is protected from serac fall making it a very safe route. The upper ridge allows views of the Chugach range and its Glaciers to the North and College Fjord to the south. All in all a very enjoyable route.

I just returned from a great trip in the Alaska Range. I started out flying into the Mountain House with David Gottlieb. We walked down the hill and camped in the middle of the Ruth Amp., a spot I highly recommend over camping in the Gorge due to more sunlight and much less wind. The weather and conditions were great so we immediately went for the Japanese Couloir on Mt. Barill. This was a great natural line up the east side of one of the Gorge peaks. We descended the same way. After a rest day and continued good weather, we decided to have a look at the South Face of Mt. Dan Beard. Not knowing much about the route, we followed the main couloir up the left hand south ridge, and then continued up the ridge above. The snow conditions quickly deteriorated in the afternoon sun and after a few route finding errors, we descended around 500 feet from the summit. Not feeling complete with the climb, we took another rest day, and then with better knowledge of the route, climbed it to the summit just as the first big storm hit. We descended in the raging storm and returned to camp for five days of tent time. The weather finally cleared a little and with only a few days left in the trip, we decided to race up to the West Fork for a look at the Southwest Ridge of Peak 11,300. We moved camp up to the West Fork and in the foggy mist we met Jedi, who had just climbed it and gave us tons of good info. The next morning dawned clear. We were torn between waiting a day to let all the new snow settle and letting a clear day go by. We decided to go for it. We summited that evening and spent an amazing night on the summit and descended the next morning. The next day we skied out to the Mountain House and were flown back to Talkeetna. After a few rest days I picked up my next climbing partner Daniel Zimmermann from Switzerland. We flew into Kahiltna Base Camp intent on Hunter’s North Buttress, but this never materialized due to the very warm and moist season the range had. Instead we focused on smaller objectives. We headed up the first morning to look at the Mini-Moonflower, but seeing a party already on it we shifted our focus to the South Face of Peak 12,200. We climbed through 2000 feet of rock bands then broke out onto a long snow slope above to reach the summit. We descended the dangerous Southeast Face back to our skis. Our next mission was an attempt on the Mini-Moonflower which saw us up 9 pitches before the spin-drift nightmare occurred. Upset with the general trend of the weather, we decided to climb the Southwest Ridge of Mt. Frances one day regardless of conditions. It snowed the entire day, but we found this climb to be one of the better base camp area climbs, very similar to the Southwest Ridge of 11,300. After a rest day, a small break in the weather opened up so we ran up and did the North Couloir of the Mini-Moonflower. This as well proved to be an awesome moderate route up a really cool feature. The next eight days were stormy and depressing. We almost flew out at one point but were lured into the promise of a short high pressure spell. We left for the West Face of Kahiltna Queen one clear evening. It started snowing after three hours of climbing but we pushed onto the summit in a bit of a bad storm. Descending was interesting amidst the rash of avalanches but we returned back to base camp unhurt and flew out that evening. After a bit of rest and a relaxing boat trip on Prince William Sound with some good friends, my next climbing partner Chris McNamara came up. The weather had been marginal for another week in the range and we flew into the Ruth Gorge one morning in light rain. However, just a few hours later the weather cleared. Chris looked over toward Barrill and said “I want to go climb that. Now.” So just a few hours after landing, I found myself at the base of the Cobra Pillar of Mt. Barrill. After a frenzy of climbing, 15 hours and 10 minutes later we found ourselves on the summit. It was our first climb ever together – what a way to warm up. A shitty descent down the Northwest slopes allowed us to walk all the way back around that morning and crash in our tent for the next four days for the biggest storm of the season. After surviving three days of torrential rain we headed down the Gorge for a look at Werewolf and Hut Tower. Not liking the line on the Werewolf, we climbed up the Southwest Face of Hut Tower, a line I had done before but was certainly worth repeating – 10 pitches up to 5.10 on some of the better rock in the Gorge. Our next objective was the West Pillar of the Eye Tooth. This might well have been the best alpine rock climb I’ve ever done. The rock is good, the climbing interesting, and the line is aesthetically amazing. We topped out on the last rock tower (don’t be fooled by the route topo!) with snow leading to the summit. Without snow gear, this was to be our high point and we started the long descent, getting our rope stuck no less than five times. With some time left but no fingertips left, we decided to have a look at the ‘small’ (1800 foot) Stump formation on the side of the Wisdom Tooth. The left of two major dihedral systems on the south face caught our attention. The climbing was incredible and the rock outstanding, until it abruptly exited left, off the face and dead ended into a steep gravel wall 600 feet below the summit. This was apparently the route of the first ascentionists and we were rather disappointed as we rapped off. After another day of rest we decided to straighten the route out and complete it direct to the summit. We headed back up and climbed several new pitches of amazing terrain. We haven’t yet named our new variation on the South Face of the Stump (Wisdom Tooth), but it is one that shouldn’t be missed next time you’re in the Gorge – 12 long sustained pitches up to .11a. We set up the route with bomber descent anchors with clean pulls. With our time was coming to an end and our fingertips really worked we pulled our big sleds up to the Mountain House (which Chris maintains was the crux of the entire trip), and had a beautiful evening flight back to Talkeetna. And for the crux of my trip: On July 8, Michelle O’Neil and I were married on the Pika Glacier in Little Switzerland. We flew up with two airplanes with most of our family and some close friends for a beautiful ceremony amidst the great peaks of the Alaska Range. We had a big reception in Talkeetna that evening. Michelle Puryear and I flew back into the Pika the next week. The weather had definitely changed back to a wet pattern. Our first objective was the West Face of Middle Troll. We found the climbing to be quite fun as we simuled the route in one pitch. At the top I conned Michelle into scooting out to the edge of the huge diving board feature for a neat photo op. Two days of rain ensued but a clear morning dawned and we got an early start to climb the South Face of The Throne. Being rather uninspired by the routes on the right side of the South Face, we climbed the rounded ridge to the left of the South Face Gulley. The climbing again was solid and fun, and we were pleased to find that the summit ridge had no snow or cornices, allowing us to summit via the upper West Ridge. The next day again dawned clear so we decided to take a shot at the East Buttress (Gargoyle Buttress) of the Royal Tower. The climbing was interesting; not quite as solid or straightforward as the other climbs, and the routefinding was tricky. The weather was decidedly going down hill all day and on the 11th pitch, about 2-3 from the buttress top, we decided to bail. After the first rappel it was raining. Toward the bottom the rain was intense and so was the rockfall. The bottom three pitches are quite threatened from the gully on the right. We pulled our drenched bodies back into camp without incident. After another day of rain, we decided to try one more peak. During a very short weather window, we were able to climb the South Ridge of South Troll. Twice we set up rappel anchors to bail, as waves of rain came over, separated by sunny breaks. At one point we made a hasty rappel, only to reclimb the pitch. After we summited, we realized we were in for it. We quickly rappelled the north face then climbed over to the West Face of the Middle Troll to continue that decent line. Hail, rain, wind, and thunder buffeted us, but we again made it down safely. We flew out that evening during a brief clearing in the weather.