[TR] Mt. Spurr, in Alaska's Tordrillo Range- 3/19/2004

[dylan_taylor]

Climb: Mt. Spurr, in Alaska's Tordrillo Range-

 

Date of Climb: 3/19/2004

 

Trip Report:

Mt Spurr TR.

 

It was a “Spurr” of the moment trip. I had flown up to Anchorage a couple weeks ago to ski and train for a traverse of the Chugach with my friend Joe. A few days after getting off the plane, I met a guy at a party who was searching earestly for a fourth person to join him and two others on a climb and ski descent of Mt Spurr Volcano in the Tordrillo Range of the Alaska Peninsula. It was to be a six day trip, starting on the last few days of winter, and ending during the first few days of spring. Of course, in Alaska, it’s all cold anyway. They had a pilot willing to take us. It would cost $325 each, I didn’t have the money, but I had a credit card so I said OK, I’ll go.

Mt Spurr is around 11,070 feet. It is the northernmost volcano in the Aleutian chain, with Mts. Redoubt and Illiamna neighboring it to the southwest. It is an active volcano, last erupting in the fall of 1992. It deposited 3mm of ash on Anchorage, but a lot more ash fell on its surrounding glaciers, leading to an accelerated period of melt and deglaciation, and an almost perennial accumulation of poo-brown snow.

 

With about two days to prepare, I tossed all the cold weather gear I could muster into my pack. It was about 5 degrees above in Anchorage, at sea level. I was terrified. I had as much clothes as I would have taken on Denali in May or early June. I hate the cold.

 

Two Thursdays ago, the wind was howling, and our flight was delayed one day. On Friday, the three other AK boys came by the house to pick me up. I had only met Cody, the ring-leader of the operation. In the car were his friends, Chris and Andy, and the token K-9, Taz. The four of us drove to the Lake Hood seaplane base (frozen at this time of year) and stuffed gear into the PA 8 or 12 or something until it was well above FAA limits. Then Chris and Cody hopped in the back, then Taz hopped on their lap, then they went flying off into the cold Alaskan sky. The Pilot, Jimmy, would return in 2 hours and take Andy, myself, and our newest team member “Jackson”. The golden retriever belongs to Cody and was delivered with little prior notice moments before Jimmy cranked the prop over. Once we were loaded, Andy, Jackson, and I squeezed in behind our pilot, and we aimed his trusty steed towards Spurr, about 70 miles west of Anchorage.

 

When we landed, it was blustery and cold, and Cody was wearing everything he brought. We disembarked, said our farewell to Jimmy, checked the battery on the sat phone that we had stored in our base camp, and within a half hour we were skinning towards the flanks of Spurr.

 

Our landing zone was at 2500 feet directly south of Spurr and the intermediary peak, “Crater Peak”, the active vent that erupted 12 years ago. Our plan was to have a “leisurely skin” up the south flanks of Crater Peak, which, unlike the surrounding terrain, was non-glaciated. Upon reaching the summit of crater peak, we planned to ski down the north side several hundred feet, and set up camp on the glacier in the col between Crater and Spurr, at around 7200 feet. With our unruly packs, substantial elevation gain in front of us, and the high wind and diminishing sunlight, we soon realized that there was no way we were making it to the col camp. We dug into a 35 degree slope in a gully partway up Crater Peak, and we set up our tents. Cody and Chris and one dog squeezed into a Barbie-sized Integral Designs tent. Andy, Jackson, and I piled in to our far more roomy accommodations, “chez Hilleberg”. Given the steeper terrain we were on, it probably would have been akin to camping halfway up Mt. St. Helens in January or something similar.

 

In the morning, the winds had increased, but we pressed on. I had never used ski crampons or Dynafit bindings before, but I was forced to learn quickly and I was incredibly pleased with their performance. There’s nothing like sketching up a 40 degree slope with just half your ski crampons digging in, and looking 3500 feet straight down a gulley that you would surely slide to the bottom of if you slipped. Eventually, hard nieve gave way to harder ice, and we were forced to find awkward positions in which to change into our mountaineering crampons without dropping the packs or skis back down the face.

 

Eventually we topped out on crater peak, traversed a ridge with a mondo-sized cornice, and skied down into the col below Spurr. Snow coverage on the glacier was significant, so we just steered clear of obvious crevasses and glided un-roped into our home for the next few days.

 

We went to work building walls around our camp before retiring in a camp with one hell of a view. Supposedly, Spurr has received only about 35 ascents, so it was inspiring to spend time in a place shared by so few others.

 

We planned to ski to the summit the following morning, but high winds made us sleep in. When the wall directly upwind of the tent I shared with Andy finally caved in, we finally got up. We labored on our new double layer snow wall, and we marveled at the warmth of the wind. Although it was gusting to 60 mph at times, we were sweating profusely with only some thin layers on. Very strange. The dogs were the only smart ones. They endeavored to remain tent-bound for the entire day.

 

That night the sound of silence woke us. A more typical Alaskan chill had blown in during the night, but the lack of wind was appreciated. We discussed the nature of the legality of certain chemicals in a state like Alaska. We had a leisurely pre-ski breakfast, and embarked on our summit tour at the more proper alpine start hour of 10:00am. Once the sun hit us it became hot. I was skinning in my t-shirt for some time. For March 22nd, it felt downright pleasant. We occasionally stopped to re-apply s-screen, admire the view, and clean out the smoking instrument. Skinning became rather steep at times, and we did have to remove skis in order to climb a slope of around 45 degrees. We wondered how fun the skiing would be on the rather hard, steep, wind-hammered surface. But our greatest concern was how we’d ski the sastrugi. The high winds felt earlier had sculpted piles 3 and 4 feet high at times, with little valleys in between. And it formed on slopes up to 35 degrees too. Chris was a little addled from either the sun, the exertion, or some chemicals, and he couldn’t thing of the word for “sastrugi”. So he called it “sturgerewski”.

 

“Man, tryin to ski this sturgerewski is gonna Suck!”

 

Eventually we reached the summit plateau. It was typically volcanic, with a broad flat summit plateau not unlike Baker or Rainier. We were able to ski right up onto the summit. The only crevasse we had to step across on the entire route was approximately 50 feet from the highest point. We took in the view, moving our gaze from Iliamna to Redoubt to Neacola, to the Revelations, to Denali and Foraker. The oil platforms in Cook inlet glittered in the sun.

 

Some of us began carrying our skiis back to the crevasse, so that we could click in just on the other side of it. Chris came back to the summit and said “where’s Taz”? We all stopped and stared at the crevasse. We all heard a yelping sound. We all ran to the edge of the crevasse and looked. There, perched on a rather unstable looking snow mushroom about 25 feet down, was Taz, anxiously pacing and squealing. I grabbed a picket and our rope, slammed in a few things, lowered Chris in, who struggled to grab hold of his dog. Then we hauled him out on a 2:1. The dog was scared, but unscathed.

 

We clicked in and began our 4000 foot ski descent back to camp. If only it was powder! Negotiating “sturgerewski” and steep boilerplate fatigued our thighs. We stopped occasionally to rest and regain psyche. Finally we arrived back at “chez hilleberg”.

Freeze dried never tasted so good. It may have been some of the worst snow I have ever skied, but the weather, the scenery, the goofy company, and the outrageously remote setting made it a trip to remember.

 

The following morning, we packed up, and climbed back to the top of Crater Peak, where another 4000 foot couloir led back to our base camp and airstrip. Rather than ski steep couloir shots with heavy packs, we all elected to remove the heaviest items, clip them all together, and give them the “huck” down the couloir. Chris elected to huck his whole pack, and we giggled like school-kid vandals as we watched his pack descend 3500 feet in a matter of seconds. The skiing was surprisingly good. The sun had baked the couloir, softening it up to almost a corn consistency. The copius amounts of ash sitting on the snow ensured that I would be getting a free base-grind out of the trip, and when I got to the bottom, there were no more chunks of old skin glue on my bases. Upon reaching base camp, there was just enough wind to launch our power kites, and Andy and I enjoyed a couple hours of Jibing and tacking along the terminus of a glacier.

The next morning, Jimmy arrived as expected, and soon we were back in Anchorage, downing libations and cheering our efforts. The snow began to fall that evening, and the weather in the Tordrillos didn’t clear till this morning. It could have been a long wait.

 

Given the circumstantes, the trip was an incredible success. The weather was perfect, we didn’t crash, only one crevasse fall, and I got to climb a peak I had never even heard of three days before we left. Even thought I had never met Chris, Cody, or Andy until the trip, they turned out to be three great gentlemen to suffer in the backcountry with. There was a lot of laughing, wise-cracking, and dreaming about future trips. It was perfect.

 

Here are some shots. I took barely any of these. I was shooting slide film on my SLR and I don’t know if I’ll ever have the time to scan any of them. These are from Andy’s camera that we shared frequently.

 

Our Objective: Mount Spurr in Alaskas Tordrillo Range.

 

Loading up our trusty steed. Note Doggy.

 

Me, Jackson, and Andy stuffed into the back of a PA-12 somewhere over cook inlet...

 

A first view of our objective:

 

Coming in on final for our basecamp.

 

Diggin in on Camp 1 on the south flanks of crater peak.

 

"hey, I've got some real estate over here I want to show you". Nearing the summit of Crater peak with top-heavy packs and high wind.

 

"Chez Integral Designs" and "Chez Hilleberg". Our homes for the next four days. The wall above the hilleberg blew over the next day.

 

Even on the first day of spring, we were still able to enjoy a pleasant day of Alaskan winter weather...

 

During a brief lull in the wind, we squeeked a run in on Crater Peak. It was only a few hundred vertical above our camp. Here's a shot of me about to cross my tips...

 

A view of our team during our quiet and hot summit day. At this point it was too steep to skin, and we had to don crampons.

 

A demonstration of our high morale on summit day.

 

A token summit shot on the top of Spurr.

 

A good day of ski mountaineering isn't complete without a little Crevasse rescue thrown in. The dog has just fallen in to the crack seen behind us, and I am equalizing a couple of anchors. Of all the places where I have practiced or performed crevasse rescue, this one had the best view.

 

Chris hanging on the rope, and trying to grab his dog before we hauled them out.

 

Me sloppily skiing "sturgerewski" just below the summit.

 

A little further down things got steeper. But at least it was a uniform slope.

 

Heading home the next day. Here's me plodding up Crater peak one last time.

 

Site of the "Great Huck". Once tossed, our various belongings and stuffsacks careened almost all the way down the 3500' couloir. We had a competition to see whose would go the furthest. Chris Won. He tossed his entire backpack. It was completely festoned with shovel, picket,pad, wands, and the like, and still managed to roll, tumble, and slide the furthest.

 

The lower part of the couloir had pretty damn good corn for Alaska in March. Our basecamp/landing area is in the flat area in the center of the left side of the photo.

 

Token shameless chump-ski-poser shot. Thats (L to R) Cody, Chris, and me (with the shortest boards of course). In front are Jackson on the left, and the crevasse-fall victim, Taz, on the right. The pointy non-glaciated peak in front is Crater Peak. We skied directly down the couloir from the summit. The peak in the back is Mt. Spurr proper.

 

 

Gear Notes:

took Dynafit system. Loved it.

 

Approach Notes:

Flew with Jimmy from Trail Ridge Air, Lake Hood, Anchorage, AK.

Edited April 2, 2004 by dylan_taylor

[sobo]

Sweeeet! Glad to hear that Taz is OK.

[dylan_taylor]

Sorry, I don't know why all the pics didn't load up the first time.

[cracked]

Fuck yeah!

[miller]

nice dylan!

 

"sturgerewski" - will you ever be able to refer to it by its proper name again? that is too funny...

 

cheers, todd

[dylan_taylor]

Todd - See you in the cascades in a couple months!

[alpentalcorey]

very nice read. I'm more of a lurker here but I just wanted to chime in to say way to go and thanks for the TR!

[Fairweather]

Nice! Cool looking mountain too! I've had Iliamna Volcano (to the south) on my short list for some time now...does that guy fly into that peak too? I'd love to see those pics that didn't load on the first try.

 

Throwing all your gear down a 3500 foot couloir! That's classic!

[markharf]

Great report, Dylan. I was just wondering why I never run into you in the 7-11 anymore. Wish I could view the rest of the photos.

 

Fifteenor twenty years ago I hitched a ride from a trucker on the Denali Highway who'd put his meager life savings into some sort of geothermal leases on the flanks of Spurr. He was hoping to sell out to some sort of nebulous Asian interests. I've always wondered what happened to him after the eruption.

 

Enjoy,

 

Mark

[dylan_taylor]

I think all the pics should be on it now. If not, they ought to be in my gallery.

 

The biggest bummer with Spurr now is that since the eruption of 1992, the crater lake no longer exists. When it was there, those few who ventured there could soak in 106 degree water right in the belly of the beast.

We had to settle for a steamy muddy crater that smelled like someone had eaten too many freeze-dried meals.

[BSpurr]

I would also love to see the other pictures of the Mt Spurr climb. Please can you link/post them? Thanks Brian Spurr, South Africa