So you wanna be an
alpinist…
I’ve always tried to imagine what is truly happening when I
see pictures of alpinists on enormous mountain faces. How could that possibly be fun, flip the
page, sport climbing in Spain that’s more like it. For some strange reason you flip the page back
to get one more peek at the big snowy monster. The mildest winter I can remember left a bit
of a void and a timely call from Kyle Dempster set the hook. We were off to the North Buttress of Mt.
Hunter, no solid plans on a route, just “go up there and do what makes sense.”
With only two weeks to fester, preparing turned into more of
crunch time. Kahiltna basecamp is a
pretty soft intro to Alaskan adventures, but there was still plenty of unknown
variables to fret over. The main concern
was trying not to freeze as the north buttress only gets sun for about three
hrs a day. Armed head to toe in Mammut’s finest; I had one less thing to worry
about. The only thing left to consider now was the climb itself, 5000’ of
alpine rock and ice. Too busy with work for preparatory alpine excursions;
monster trail runs after ten hour work shifts would have to suffice.
Enough real world drama, lets go to the mountains…
Pulling into Kahiltna we
found everyone digging out tents. A four day storm had dropped fifty plus
inches of snow. The current forecast
showed high pressure for the foreseeable future and camp was a flurry of
energy. Atleast five teams strategized
their game plans. Four teams vollied for the Bibler-Klewin and a strong Korean
team eyed a variation to Deprivation.
Kyle and I set up camp in a hurry, wondering wether to blast off right
away. We had eyes for the Wall of Shadows, a lesser traveled route up the
center of the buttress. Midafternoon sun kissed the top of the buttress and the
enormous hanging seracs released their fresh deposits, sending plumes rumbling
across the approach. Reevaluation; slow your roll.
An easy one hour
approach leads right to “the nose” of the Alaska Range
Another day of excessive caffeine and Ozzy Osborne and it
was way past time to go. Kyle napped and
gingerly packed his bag as I scurried around camp like a mouse in a snake cage. 24 hours of light and a multiday climb led to
interesting discussions of strategy, but in the end we just started climbing
when we couldn’t sit still anymore.
Seeing that I’d never climbed a face this big I asked Kyle
to start us off to get a reasonable pace; bam! 2 pitches and we’re over 1000
feet in. Digging the moderate terrain,
we were full of smiles and confidence. Step after step of WI 4, fantastic continuous
movement, then I blow a foot and look down to discover a broken front
point. Oh boy, 4000 feet to go with no
point. Utter frustration sets in; Kyle
brings me to the belay for the team huddle.
What to do?? Stay calm and carry on…
`
Other than the broken point,
things were almost going too smooth. We
weren’t exactly sure where the business was, but it was sure to come. The first ascentionists had found difficult
aid climbing and the giri giri boys had freed the pitches at M6R, so we knew
trouble lay ahead. In the most impressive lead I’ve seen in the mountains,
Dempster dispersed three consecutive pitches of very real mixed climbing. Slow (2 hour belay, froze my ass off) and
methodically, Kyle dug for hidden placements and assessed each pitch
briliantly. Only problem was two of
these pitches were traverses, so they proved to be full value for me as
well. Headwall cracked, we again simuled
through occasional ice steps and steep snow.
Twenty something hours on the move, snow wallowing felt unbelievably
brutal. The only comparison that comes
to mind would be getting thrown into an NFL game
No where to go but up, first some major excavation.
First direct sunshine and 24
hrs on the move we dug into the slope for our first refuel. Dehydration and fatique set in, neither one
recovering from the extra effort required.
We made the call to go down from the top of the third ice band rather
than continue to the top of the buttress. Technical climbing over, but 2500’ of
snow wallowing to the summit and another frigid evening was more than we were
willing to endure. Down we go..
Matt Wells and Kevin
Brumbaugh bivied at the first ice band
Still hungry for the summit, we vied for a romp on the
French Route. This would prove a bit
more difficult than we first thought.
The initial coulour was 2000’ of great moderate climbing, all sunshine and high spirits. Exiting the coulour proved to be the route finding crux of either route with convoluted cornices and spines.
Once on the headwall, the terrain remained complicated
with constant options for wrong turns. A
400’ traverse led us into a viable corner system with mixed climbing on perfect
granite around M5.
Dawn cracked and gave an amazing light show on Mt.
Foraker, bringing some much needed enthusiasm. However we wouldn’t see sunshine
for probably twelve more hours. Climbing
through the early morning hours was pretty much brutal, water bottles frozen
solid and fingers wouldn’t warm. Oh the
joys..
The final rockband to break, we stopped for a brewup. Nothin like mochas and Kung Fu Chicken to
recharge the batteries. Good thing, what
looked like two pitches of difficulties turned into six.
This was the next to last difficult pitch, basically
vertical kitty litter with timely spindrift showers. This pitch was definently
the highlight of the trip, warm fuzzies all around. Almost as good as dropping
the stove from the next pitch, oops!
