Mount McKinley Expedition 1999

Bill Jones

By every measure but extreme altitude, Mt McKinley (20,320ft), also known by its original native Alaskan name as Denali, is the highest mountain in North America. From the north, McKinley's walls rise 18,000 feet above Wonder Lake in a horizontal distance of only 27 miles. Perhaps no other mountain in the world rises so far in such a short distance. Its southern flank rises 13,000 feet above the glacier from which the most popular routes start. From Mt Everest's base camp to its summit is 2,000 feet less. Night time temperatures two-thirds of the way up McKinley frequently hit -30°C during May and June, the peak climbing season. Not until Himalayan climbers are nearly twice that high do they experience such temperatures. In addition, the northern latitude means the barometric pressure is lower and consequently the oxygen content of the air is lower, making the summit the equivalent of a 24,000 foot peak. High altitude, extreme weather and active glaciers combine to make Mt McKinley a very serious mountain. It exacts a heavy toll of climbers in altitude sickness and frostbite each year.

All early attempts to climb the mountain were made from the northern side and the first successful ascent was made in April 1910 by four Alaskans. Unfortunately for them, they had chosen to ascend the lower north summit (19,470 feet) and it wasn't until 1913 that the higher, south summit was climbed by a team led by Hudson Stuck. Nineteen years passed before men once again stood on McKinley's summit. Incredibly, it wasn't until 1951 that the mountain was climbed from the south by Bradford Washburn via the classic West Buttress route, which has become the most popular, non-technical route on McKinley. Washburn's success in pioneering a route from this side and his superb aerial photographs and maps, revealed the possibility of climbing the mountain from its western side by such routes as the now classic Cassin Ridge and West Rib.

The idea of climbing Mt McKinley had been a burning ambition of mine for several years despite its reputation. In 1998 my first attempt to climb the mountain via the West Buttress route stalled at the top of the headwall at 16,200 feet in the face of a storm. We survived three days and four nights in a snow cave, whilst only a couple of hundred feet above us a guide was blown off the ridge to his death. When the storm abated we retreated to the safety of base camp.

Soon after returning I placed an advert in the Alpine Club newsletter in the hope of getting another team together for a second attempt the following year. I was delighted when three experienced mountaineers, Yvonne Holland, James Lasseter and Dave Wynne-Jones expressed an interest and I immediately commenced making all the appropriate arrangements.

Within a week, the flights had been booked, the registration forms faxed to the Talkeetna Ranger Station and all four of us had arranged to meet for the first time at Capel Curig to give us the opportunity to get to know each other.

We flew to Anchorage, Alaska via Seattle and stayed overnight in downtown Anchorage, completing the final leg of the journey to Talkeetna, one hundred miles to the north, by mini-bus the next afternoon. In Talkeetna we checked-in with Doug Geeting Aviation who were to fly us into the Kahiltna Glacier Base Camp (7200ft) the following day once we had registered with the Park Rangers and attended their briefing

Our loaded Cessna took off in perfect weather affording us spectacular views for the whole forty minute flight. After landing on the glacier, we unloaded, registered with the National Park Authorities and then picked up our sleds and fuel before choosing a site for our tents. The afternoon was spent taking in our awesome surroundings, preparing the sleds and our equipment, about 110lbs each, including food and fuel for 21 days.

Hauling your gear on small sleds over the long but less steep part of the route is the method of choice in these parts; there are no pack animals or porters here. Generally progress up the mountain is made by carrying a load up to your next campsite and then returning to sleep at your previous, lower camp. You then carry all your remaining gear up to the higher site. This "yo-yo" method tries to ensure you do not ascend too quickly and succumb to altitude sickness.

Whilst digging out and levelling our base-camp site we discovered two small crevasses! We quickly filled them in and moved our tent over a couple of feet. I spent a couple of nervous nights camping on this spot.

The conditions this year were much better than those I had experienced last year. We were able to take advantage of this and made very good progress arriving at the 14,200 ft advanced base camp, at the so-called Ice Bowl, in only 6 days. That evening the weather began to deteriorate and the next morning we descended to pick up our cache of food and fuel before the forecasted storm cut us off from it. The weather remained poor for the next couple of days although the storm did not materialise. Conditions above however, remained grim and many teams were retreating from the higher, final camp before the summit. Only a handful of climbers had summited due to the high winds and the intensely cold and icy conditions above. The Rangers were called into action a couple of times, returning with badly frostbitten victims.

At advanced base we were able to rest for a few days and acclimatise before moving up to the next camp at 17,200ft. After four days the weather looked promising so we decided to carry a load up to the final camp, the "Crows Nest", in preparation for our summit attempt. This section, above 14,2000ft, presents the steepest climbing of the entire route. A climb of 1200ft of moderate terrain leads to the 800ft, 40°-55°, snow and ice face, "The Headwall". At its base, we clipped onto a fixed rope, climbed over the bergschrund and a steady plod soon brought us to its top where we had a short break before tackling the ridge above. This airy ridge, with its several steep, exposed sections, proved to be the most interesting and spectacular section of the climb. It gave majestic views of the mountains and glaciers in all directions; below your feet the West Buttress dropped straight down to the Ice Bowl camp, 3000ft below.

We cached our loads at the high camp and returned to advanced base where we were pinned down again by deteriorating weather for another couple of days. Although the forecast continued to be poor we decided to move up to the high camp on the third day. We felt that our best chance was to be in place at the high camp in order to take advantage of any sudden improvement in the weather. This second trip up in poor conditions was exhausting. When James and I arrived we just set up the tent on the first bit of level ground we could find and lay inside, too tired to bother building protective walls of snow around the tent.

We awoke the next morning to find that Dave and Yvonne had not arrived and spent an anxious day waiting for them whilst moving the tent to a newly vacated site. We spent several hours reinforcing its protective walls. This camp has the reputation of being the windiest and coldest and demands the most fortification; walls have been known to have been blown over.

To our great relief, Dave and Yvonne arrived in the late afternoon. The previous day they had decided to camp at the top of the Headwall due to the deteriorating conditions and they had been unable to leave until the next afternoon when the wind had eased.

The cold, windy conditions kept us in camp for the next two days but we had sufficient time and food to wait for the necessary improvement in the weather. Dramatically, on the evening of the third day, it started to improve. We awoke next day to a very cold but sunny, clear and completely still morning.

James and myself set-off at 8.30am, as Dave and Yvonne were still preparing themselves, and it was too cold to stand around waiting for them. We crossed the plateau and began a steep, icy traverse which was still in the shade. By the time we came into the sunshine my feet were numb. I hoped that they would recover now that we were in the comparative warmth of the sunshine and wiggling them every few steps improved matters.

The weather held and after several hours we could see the true summit at last, only 700ft above us. We soon broke through onto the beautiful, corniced summit ridge and in five hundred, very careful, yards we were on the top. What a fitting climax to the ascent of the highest mountain in North America!

We stayed on the summit hoping that Dave and Yvonne would arrive so that we could celebrate together, but after thirty minutes the cold forced us to descend. We were soon surprised to meet up with Dave, climbing on his own, on the summit ridge. Yvonne had wisely turned back when she started to suffer badly from the cold. Risk of frostbite is very real. Whilst James continued descending, I returned to the summit with Dave to take his photograph.

The following morning the weather was still good. I was able to persuade Yvonne to leave camp later when conditions were warmer for her second attempt. Dave declined our offer to stay with him until Yvonne's return, so we packed up and descended to advance base camp. Late the following afternoon Dave and Yvonne arrived. She had summited, but in increasingly windy conditions on the summit ridge.

Back in Talkeetna, when the celebrations finally ended, we headed north to explore the Denali National Park, to see Grizzly Bears, Moose and Caribou, and to catch our last glimpse of the classic view of Mt McKinley from Wonder Lake where all the early exploratory climbs had started from.