Denali 2011: Failure or Non-Summit?
When I started to leave the 17,200 High Camp on Denali without standing on the summit, I wondered how people would consider this effort. One person characterized it this way:
“Alan, sorry to hear of the failure, but safety first. Safe travels home.”
After spending eight days watching the swirling hurricane-force winds on the summit, it was safety first. We never got an opportunity to try to summit, and it would have been difficult at best most of the time.
Denali, well known for some of the harshest weather for climbers, had shown her stuff. Of all my 7 Summit climbs, I knew this one (after Everest, which I had summited the previous month) was the most risky. I could control my preparation and my health, but not the weather.
So what was this effort: a failure or a “non-summit”?
Well, obviously, for me, it was not a failure. I believe that every person I reached with the message of hope, need and urgency around Alzheimer’s is one person more than if I hadn’t tried. I see a climb similar to research, where not every effort results in achieving its goal, but it does lead to new learnings, and that has immense value. Besides, not trying is simply not an option.
The rest of this trip report departs from my usual first-person format, as I did for my 2001 and 2007 climbs, as I cover this climb in a more structured format.
Team and Guide Service
I climbed with Mountain Trip (MT), an Ophir, Colorado-based guide company. They are only one of six authorized commercial guide services for Denali. I did not have time so quickly after Everest to organize my own trip, and I also wanted to leverage the resources of a larger team to concentrate on my Alzheimer’s work. I climbed with MT in 2001 and liked their casual style.
I met with my teammates at the Earth Bed & Breakfast in Anchorage. We were a rather large (too large) team of nine clients, three guides and an intern guide, totaling 13 people.
One of the MT owners, Bill Allen, drove us in the MT van to Talkeetna, where we spent the night after a weather delay. The next morning, after a weather delay, we flew via the Talkeetna Air Taxi to the Kahiltna Glacier to start our climb.
Route and Camps
The US National Park Service (NPS) dictates much of how a commercial expedition is run on Denali, thus leaving the guides with little flexibility.
We followed the usual formula for a Denali West Buttress climb: making a series of camps from 7,200’ to 17,200’, ferrying food, fuel, and personal and group gear to three caches along the way. We camped at the normal spots of 7,200’, 7,800’, 11,000’, 14,200’, and 17,200’.
We traveled at night, in the dim Alaskan sunlight, along the frozen glaciers. The crevasses were in full bloom in early July, but our lead guide, Jared, showed his expertise by navigating deftly around them, even under the shroud of dense fog.
We had one weather delay at the 11,000’ camp but then started moving higher through Ski, Squirrel Hills then around Windy Corner to reach the 14,000’ Ranger Camp.
We pulled sleds loaded with about 40 pounds of group and personal gear and carried another 50 to 60 pounds in our backpacks. This was a normal Denali program. The mountain was not crowded this early July. We shared the route with a team from Alaska Mountaineering School (8). Another Mountain Trip (13) team plus one from RMI (8) followed us a day behind.
Gear
All the team used normal cold weather and winter camping gear, from merino wool base layers to lined shell pants. Jackets depended on weather conditions and ranged from light shells to full down. Glove systems were critical, as were sunglasses and goggles. Boots were everywhere, from double plastics to 8000m integrated gator versions. No one on our team suffered from extreme cold or frostbite.
We stayed in 3—and 4-person Mountain Hardwear Trango tents. It was extremely crowded when we had 4 people in the tent. The guides cooked the food in the cook/dining tent dug into the snow. They used white gas and MSR XGK-EX stoves.
Everyone moved in roped teams using chest harnesses, prussic for belaying and a jumar on the headwall.
Weather
We experienced typical late June and early July Alaskan weather: relatively mild days with cold nights. If the night sky was clear, it was well below zero. During the day, if the sun was out, it was very hot, especially inside the tents.
The daily forecast was not far from what we experienced, but there was enough doubt that the guides relied on their observations to make final decisions.
Once we reached the 17K camp, the weather was mostly morning clouds with afternoon clearing, but high winds dominated the summit ridges, as evidenced by snow plumes visible from High Camp and 14 Camp.
Summit Bid
On Denali, everything is driven by the weather. Once we reached the 17,200 High Camp, we hoped for a 16-hour window starting before noon to avoid the coldest temperatures of the early dawn. But it was “Groundhog Day” with identical conditions for seven straight days.
Each morning, we were greeted with winds and low clouds, sometimes snow. After a simple breakfast, we would while away the day napping, reading or taking short walks around the camp. By late afternoon, the skies would clear, and winds would drop, teasing us that the next morning would suit a summit attempt.
One morning, the winds were low both at High Camp and on the ridge, and the forecast called for winds under 40 mph. But it would have required the team to push hard and fast. One disadvantage of a large commercial team is that the decision-making tries to consider everyone’s ability, so if you have a wide range of skills or speed, some people may not get what they want.
When the forecast was issued two days before our scheduled departure day, it predicted three more days of high winds and heavy snow. In fact, it snowed a foot and a half that night. We left the next morning.
Retreat
Our travel from High Camp to the airstrip was not without some drama. Near-blizzard conditions caused us to bivy at the 11,000’ camp along with the other teams. Then, once below Ski Hill, we stopped to pick up the RMI team, and our large group of 50 climbers pulling sleds made the 12-hour trek across the Kahiltna Glacier back up Motorcycle Hill.
I was very impressed that Talkeetna Air Taxi made multiple flights to pick our team up late that day.
Summary
I was very disappointed not to have summited, especially since I had made my previous summits of Vinson, Aconcagua and Everest the previous 6 months as part of my 7 Summits Climb for Alzheimer’s: Memories are Everything® project.
However, the weather simply did not cooperate, and there is not much that could be done.
We had a good team of clients and guides. Everyone got along well, and the trip was well run. My only concern was that, at times, the trip felt as if it catered to the lowest skills on the trip. Thus, I might have had a chance if I had been with a more experienced team or leadership willing to push it a bit more.
A final reflection is that Denali feels like it has lost the wild feeling I found back in 2001. Maybe it is due to my experience, but more to the point, it felt like it was run as a formula, similar to Mt. Rainier or Mont Blanc, where operators run climbers up and down the mountain.
About 1000 to 1500 climbers attempt Denali each year with an overall success rate of 50%, less for a non-commercial team. So I am behind the odds with zero summits out of 3 attempts. Denali, you owe me one!
However, beyond all the climbing, my 7 Summits effort concerns Alzheimer’s awareness and fundraising, not summits. I asked people to pledge a penny a foot for every foot I climbed or $119 for Denali. I was 3,000’ short, making it $89, but everyone made the full pledge as if I had summited – so Denali is a summit for me!
Climb On!
Alan
Memories are Everything®
Denali Resources
I have climbed on Denali three times. You can read about my climbs through these links:
