“Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet high, and is said to be the highest mountain in Africa. Its western summit is called the Masai “Ngaje Ngai,” the House of God. Close to the western summit there is the dried and frozen carcass of a leopard. No one has explained what the leopard was seeking at that altitude.”
-Ernest Hemingway, The Snows of Kilimanjaro-
Kilimanjaro stands as the tallest mountain on the African continent standing at 19,340ft. Parker and Makayla successfully summitted the mountain in June 2018.
June 20
After 24 hours of traveling, we arrived at Kilimanjaro International Airport at 5:00AM local time. A swarm of tourists exited the plane to fill the Visa line 100 people deep. Meanwhile the Tanzanian…Tanzanite….Tanzania citizen line welcomed it’s single entrant back the country as we watched longingly while waiting for a single customs officer to fingerprint a stamp the passports of the anxiously remaining group who by the looks of it were clearly not from around here.
Kilimanjaro International Airport
Customs cleared, we found our bags, only slightly worse for the wear and made our way outside into the cool, dark Tanzania morning to be greeted by “Mohammed” our taxi driver. Makayla was in awe of the van which had a steering wheel on the right side, the likes of which she had never seen before. Mo drove us the final hour through the plains of Tanzania and told us about local history of 120 tribes including the Masai tribe as well as German and British colonization. As riveting of a storyteller as Mo was, Makayla drifted off to sleep as the effects of jetlag and 24hrs of travel began to take over. The sun began to rise as we arrived in Moshi or “Mosh-town” as Mo called it and we were brought to the substantially fortified and beautifully gardened Springlands Hotel, just in time for breakfast.
Taxi Drive to Moshi
The day consisted of sleeping, eating, sleeping, checking email on WiFi (pronounced here as whiff-eeee), and sleeping some more. In between REM cycles we were introduced to our jubilant climbing guide “Jonny” and his more reserved assistant guides “Joshua” and “Robert”. Jonny smiles from ear to ear, wears a bright blue paisley shirt, and in typical African fashion reminds us Hakuna Matata, to relax as we discuss the details of the impending 6 day hike to the top of Africa’s tallest peak. As we understand it we will be climbing with 6 porters, 3 guides, 1 kitchen boy, and 1 to carry a portable toilet. We are employing a small army, an idea that challenges my independence, but the Tanzania government wouldn’t have it any other way; and I take comfort knowing that kind souls like Jonny are blessed to have such fortunate jobs in an area that depends greatly on tourism.
Fried Chicken and Fries Lunch at the Springlands Hotel
Tomorrow we will meet our guides at 8:30AM for a drive to the Machame Gate. From there, the six day hike will begin. There are many other climbers heading out at the same time, but we will be personally cared for by our 9 man crew. We are excited about the adventure ahead, and look forward to sharing pictures and stories when we return.
“The food is good and the people are kind” -Parker
“My favorite part is spending time with you” -Makayla
June 21 – Moshi to Machame Gate to Machame Camp (5,900ft to 9,800ft)
Our journey to the summit of Africa began after a hardy porridge breakfast and loading our gear bags on top of a van destined for the Machame Gate. An hour-long car ride gave Makayla ample time to to wrestle with the unknowns of the climb to come…how will we sleep in tents, not wash our hair for a week, the cold, the danger, the…toilets. Some questions are better left unanswered. Although I hear that one luxury outfitter will even provide porters to setup portable hot showers at each camp; for a price that would nearly quadruple the cost of our trip.
Loading Gear onto the Van
Start of Machame Route on Kilimanjaro
Woops…The Sign Was Freshly Painted
After checking in at the Ranger Station and provisioning the porters, the Machame route begins to ascend through the African rainforest. The jungle is ripe with greenery, moss, vines, and trees that look as if they were plucked from The Jungle Book cartoon. The plantlife is so lush that you could cut through the oxygen with a knife. The floating drift-mist is a visual reminder of the pristinely fresh air we have the privilege of inhaling. And the monkeys, so many monkeys, long-tailed monkeys, loud monkeys, thieving monkeys, black and white striped skunkeys. They all dance effortlessly through the vines and branches above our heads.
Long-tailed Monkey Looking for Food to Steal
The porters (carrying loads larger than Makayla) hurry on ahead to prepare camp. The remaining trio – Makayla, Jonny, and I hike through the jungle to meet them later in the afternoon. Our five hour hike provides an opportunity to get to know Jonny a little better and figure out what is behind that contagious smile. It is not long after beginning to share stories that we find that Jonny too is a follower of Christ, and our guide-client pleasantries took to a deeper level now realizing we were walking with a brother in Christ. Our conversation this day meandered from love for Jesus, to thanking God in trials, to unity through denominational differences, to spiritual warfare, to the power of the Spirit in faith, to care for orphans and widows, and much in between. The conversations were encouraging to say the least, so encouraging that our pace perpetually increased as we talked, up to the point that Makayla was out of breath and we realized that we needed to…as the locals say “Pole Pole” and walk slowly slowly if we were to make it to the summit on Day 5.
Makayla and Parker at Machame Camp
June 22 – Machame Camp to Shira Camp (9,800ft to 12,600ft)
Day 2 brought us out of the jungle and into the alpine tundra as we gained elevation and the vegetation began to subside. This offered some of our first clear views of Kilimanjaro which had previously hid itself under a veil of clouds. The rocky trail steepens and our hike becomes more familiar; reminiscent of our stair climber training back home in Houston. Jonny shares more stories as we climb. At 39 years old he has summitted 309 times including once with an 81 year old man. He has plans to set the record for youngest summit by climbing with his 7 year old daughter next year. The weather begins to cool, and jackets are welcomed for warmth, but I can still feel my fingers so I’ll call this a relatively warm climb so far. After dinner, Jonny checks our blood oxygenation levels with a pulse oximeter. Makayla and I are acclimating well with readings that would be more indicative of sea-level than twelve thousand feet. We take that news along with the incredible views at Shira Camp as a welcomed motivational boost.
View of Kilimanjaro from Shira Camp
Shira Camp with Mt Meru in Background
June 23 – Shira Camp to Lava Tower to Barranco Camp (12,600ft to 15,000ft to 13,000ft)
By the third day of the climb, we were set to reach an an elevation of 15,000ft, higher than any point in the continental United States, before descending to 13,000ft and sleeping at an elevation higher than Makayla had ever stood previously. Many climbers suffer Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) at these levels and there is little one can do to alleviate it except for going back down the mountain. We were on a strict six day schedule so this option could only be afforded at the expense of the summit. This day would be a benchmark for our fitness and an indication of our ability to continue the climb. Despite waking to freezing temperatures, we were granted beautiful views of the sunrise over Kilimanjaro.
Sunrise Over Kilimanjaro
After a cold start to the hike, the rising sun began to warm the landscape rapidly. Jonny ran into a porter who was in personal despair after the loss of his wife, and he wasted no time before beginning to share that their is great hope in Christ. As Jonny shares the Gospel, his pace again quickens and the porter leaves encouraged. Meanwhile we had been struggling to keep up. With the faster pace and warmer weather, our puffy jackets went from comfort blanket to straight jacket in seconds and Makayla was regretting the double layers. We took a short rest break to huddle behind a rock and shed layers before continuing on toward Lava Tower, the highest point Makayla had ever hiked. After a new ensemble, Makayla was feeling very strong and hiking at her best pace of the trip. I, on the other hand, was struggling to keep down the abundance of food I had gorged myself on earlier that morning. Jonny had previously accused us of under-eating (a possible sign of AMS). “I’ll show him” -I thought- Never a wise statement on a mountain, as I burped my way up to Lava Tower.
Lava Tower
Makayla and Parker at Lava Tower
After a hot lunch at Lava Tower, we were feeling great, and confidently descended, rounding the backside of the mountain along streams of flowing glacier melt echoing through the valley. A slight mist rain softened the soil as we drew closer to Barranco Camp. Winding down to camp we walk through a trail lined with giant cactus trees. Jonny explained the name in Swahili but I’m not sure I could translate. It looked like something out of a Dr. Seuss book. Finally at our destination, Barranco Camp was the largest camp yet, with some 100 tents and climbers from countless countries and teams. The first great melting pot of the mountain.
Giant Cactus Trees
June 24 – Barranco Camp to Barafu Camp (13,000ft to 15,100ft)
The hike to Barafu Camp was set to be our longest hike yet, and our last good night of sleep, since we’d be waking up at midnight the following night to attempt the summit. Unfortunately Makayla’s nerves got the best of her and started our ascent to base camp on only three our of sleep. She toughed it out and got steadily stronger as we crossed glacier streams and scrambled up the rock wall leaving Barranco Camp. Looking back on camp from the cliffs revealed a scene out of Avatar with glacier melt streams turning to multiple waterfalls cascading over the cliffs to the valley below. The entire camp had been perched on the plateau above, with its beauty hidden until we had climbed far enough away to admire the view. My photographic memory will have to suffice sense I neglected to pull out the camera that morning.
Our Kili Toilet Tent
Kilimanjaro From Barranco Camp
As the sun came up and the weather warmed, Makayla’s motivation was returning as she enjoyed “exploring” through the rock scrambles. The clear views of the summit helped encourage our steady pace as we arrived at Karanga Camp for a hot lunch. Our bellies full, we continued on to base camp to complete our seven hour day.
Karanga Camp
The last hour into Barafu Camp was marked by a rescue helicopter flying overhead and landing near camp to (I assume) bring down a climber suffering from AMS or an injury. After reaching camp, our view out the tent window revealed summit climbers descending far later in the afternoon than normal, most of whom were incoherently stumbling their way down the mountain and flanked by guides holding either arm for safety. Makayla asked a very reasonable question, “Could that happen to us?” I assure her that we are always going to turn around before getting to that point if we feel unsafe. After climbing together for the last four days, we are feeling strong, the weather is clear, and I’m liking our chances. Now if we could only get more than three hours of sleep this time before our midnight wakeup call.
Best Tasting Popcorn of My Life
June 25 – Barafu Camp to Uhuru Peak to Mweka Camp (15,100ft to 19,340ft to 10,200ft)
Summit day began in the cold of night. At 11PM, we woke to thaw our bodies with tea and breakfast. Makayla’s nerves still running rampant, she barely manages to down a few bites of porridge. We layer up with our heaviest parkas and light the way through the darkness with our headlamps. We are hiking by midnight and among the middle of the pack among climbers who are leaving for the summit that night. The next seven hours are quiet, dark, cold, and unphotographable. The only visible signs of life are a zig-zagging trail of headlamps like little stars winding their way up the trail above and behind us. It is far colder than I would have expected and I am having to shake blood back into my hands to maintain feeling. It’s not quite Denali cold, but I’m guessing we are close to -5°F.
Three hours into summit night and the steep rock trail turns to ice. With each step we plant our feet into a platform kicked out by a laboring climber ahead. We are quiet. Climbing in this kind of misery leaves one battling themselves in their own mind. Mustering up the courage to continue, when your frozen bones are crying out to give up. Somewhere between ice cold steps and three bites of porridge Makayla came close to hitting a wall. Our discerning guides decide to lighten her load and our assistant guide, Robert grabs her pack when she is not looking at a rest stop. None of us are carrying much more in our packs than a couple of water bottles and a Snickers bar, but even this small gesture brings a smile to our faces as we are amazed by the generosity and strength of our guides.
Makayla and I are now climbing at a stronger pace as we near the summit ridge after six long hours in the pitch black. Another water break on the ridge and we are on toward the final hour up the ridge to the summit. Climbing toward the 19,340ft summit we are now breathing close to 50% of the oxygen levels that we would enjoy at sea level. A far cry from the oxygen saturated jungle from only days earlier. Each breath is labored and each step feels like a mile. As we take our final steps toward the summit of Kilimanjaro, the glowing African sun begins to rise at our backs – welcoming us to the rooftop of the continent.
Makayla and Parker on the Summit of Kilimanjaro
We were overjoyed to have made it to the summit, but making it to the top is only half the battle. On the way back down the summit ridge, Jonny snapped a few photos of the majestic views above the clouds. We had made it back down through the ice by donning crampons, a fresh experience for Makayla. She did well, although our cheap rentals wore out after a couple of hours and I was happy to get rid of them once we were free of the ice.The decent back to Barafu Camp was much quicker than the ascent reaching camp after three hours, now 10AM in the morning.
Descending the Summit Ridge
We rested for two hours before continuing our descent, back past the helipad where less fortunate climbers had been carried away only a day earlier. Did I mention Makayla was feeling a lot less nervous now, and began eating a healthy serving again after lunch? We had a renewed energy which I wish I could say lasted the rest of the day, but eventually the trail steepened and our knees were taking a beating. 17 exhausting hours after beginning summit day, we reached Mweke Camp. We had ascended 4,000ft and descended 9,000ft in a single day. At sunrise we couldn’t feel our toes on the ice, and by sundown we were sweating in the humidity of the jungle. We were too tired to process what we had accomplished, and simply grateful to rest our weary knees.
June 26 – Mweka Camp to Mweka Gate (10,200ft to 4,900ft)
We awoke feeling much better at our lowest elevation in a week. The porters and guides sing a goodbye song to the mountain as they break down camp on the final day…”Ki-li-man-jar-o….Ha-ku-na Ma-ta-ta!” It was only three final hours through the rainforest to the park gate and the joyful tune of the porters looped through my mind as we finished the climb. This team of porters and guides worked tirelessly throughout the trip to support our efforts, and we would not have made it to the summit without their teamwork. We are especially grateful for our super-strong assistant guide Robert and our lead guide Jonny who’s joyful, Christ-filled spirit often encouraged us when we were feeling down. Tanzania is a beautiful country with some incredible people. I recommend viewing it from the summit. We had so much fun that I almost forgot it was pouring down rain the last day until I saw this picture. OK DJ, queue the song Africa by Toto…”Bless the rains down in Africa!”
Mt. McKinley, known by its native name of Denali, is the tallest mountain on the North American continent standing at 20,320ft. Parker will be attempting to complete his second summit of the Seven Summits on Denali in 2015.
My expedition outfitter will post occasional updates to the AMS blog, relayed via satellite phone while we are on the mountain. We are the May 25th team led by Todd Tumolo.
The Approach:
Houston, TX to Talkeetna, AK
May 23, 2015
After 3 years of practice, packing gear for Denali has become quite routine. There is little need to buy new gadgets and toys. The one area in which I get to indulge is in deciding what mountain reading I will be carrying for the trip. Typically I carry a small paperback and journal the trip in the blank pages at the back. In addition to my usual pocket Bible, I decided this year to add Hudson Stuck’s Ten Thousand Miles with a Dog Sled: A Narrative of Winter Travel in Interior Alaska. Stuck was an Episcopal Archdeacon who traveled the Alaska interior, spreading the Gospel in the early 1900’s. He later went on to lead what would become the first expedition to successfully summit Denali in 1913. I figured this book would be a fitting read while climbing the mountain that he once pioneered. His tales of the open wilderness, dog mushing, mountain climbing, and muscular Christianity should keep me entertained throughout downtime in the tent.
Books I have taken on mountains in the past
“How my heart burns within me whenever I get view of this great monarch of the North! There it stood, revealed from base to summit in all its stupendous size, all its glistening majesty. I would far rather climb that mountain than own the richest gold-mine in Alaska. Yet how its apparent nearness mocks one; what time and cost and labour are involved even in approaching its base with food and equipment for an attempt to reach its summit! How many schemes I have pondered and dreamed these seven years past for climbing it! Some day time and opportunity and resource may serve, please God, and I may have that one of my heart’s desires; if not, still it is good to have seen it from many different coigns of vantage, from this side and from that; to have felt the awe of its vast swelling bulk, the superb dignity of its firm-seated, broad-based uplift to the skies with a whole continent for a pedestal; to have gazed eagerly and longingly at its serene, untrodden summit, far above the eagle’s flight, above even the most daring airman’s venture, and to have desired and hoped to reach it; to desire and hope to reach it still.”
-Hudson Stuck in 1912, 1 year prior to completing the First Ascent of Denali-
Taking advantage of my Amex benefits at the Seattle Lounge
With books decided upon and the rest of the gear packed, I caught a ride to the airport with Makayla for my flight to Anchorage via Seattle. She was sweet enough to give me a pocket journal so I could document the trip without having to tear up the back of my books like usual. Flying out of Houston at 5:30pm put me in Anchorage just past midnight local time. Aside from a brief layover in Seattle, I hadn’t had much sleep, and with a train to board in a few hours, I was left to catch 3 hours of sleep on the airport bench; oldies music blaring in the background.
My Denali Pocket Journal
May 24, 2015
The Alaska Railroad Train Station in Anchorage
Over at the train station, I met up with teammate, David, whom I also climbed with in 2014. He came bearing gifts of bagels that he had snagged from his hotel breakfast. I gratefully received the peace-offering, as we caught up on old times. We boarded the train to Talkeetna and enjoyed the views along the 3 hr trip into interior Alaska.
Alaska Railroad Train to TalkeetnaAlaska Railroad Train view from the Dome Car
In Talkeetna, I settled in to the House of the Seven Trees Hostel. The owner and host, Pat McGhee, is the sweetest women north of Texas. I learned that at the age of 88, she had just gone under heart surgery this past September. None-the-less she still hosts climbers and travelers throughout the summer in her unassuming establishment. David and I grabbed a bite to eat and then met up with the team over at AMS headquarters. My fellow teammates will be David, Pendar, Kenneth, Nicky, and Bob. Our head guide will be Todd Tumolo and our second guide will be Jeremiah Phelps. They have decades of experience between them and have a healthy respect for both safety and the mountain. I’m confident our team is well prepared for potential success. We ate dinner as a team and got to know one another a little bit. Bob was kind enough to pay for our dinner in gratitude for a minor tent compromise. Everyone had a great sense of humor and it seems that we are off to a good start.
Gear Check at AMS Headquarters
May 25, 2015
Happy Memorial Day. The current plan is to wake up and register with the National Park Service at 8:15am. Then move on to some rope team review and crevasse rescue practice. Finish up the morning with safety briefings and then we should be prepared to fly out to the glacier. Flights onto the mountain only run when the cloud cover clears and the planes can land by line of sight. It is not uncommon to be held up in Talkeetna for a few days waiting for the skies to be flyable. If we get held up, I will post again, but if all goes as planned, I will finish these posts upon return in three weeks. In the meantime you will find sparse updates from our guide company at the AMS blog(Watch for posts about the Tumolo expedition). Additionally it looks like the NPS is posting daily weather reports for the first time this year.
Alaska Statehood Memorial
Below is a rough itinerary of the climb. Weather can shift these dates as much as 7 days in either direction. Day 1 is May 25, 2015. Day 1 8:00 am meet at AMS for orientation, gear check, and pack lunches. 4:30 pm fly to Base Camp, 7,200′, distance: 60 miles, elevation gain: 6850′ Day 2 Base Camp: organize, acclimate, review glacier travel and crevasse rescue, take a deep breath and enjoy the view Day 3 Single to Ski Hill, Camp 1, 7,800′, distance: 5.5 miles, elevation gain: 600′ Day 4 Carry to Kahiltna Pass, 9,700′, distance: 5 miles, elevation gain: 1900′ Day 5 Move to Kahiltna Pass, Camp 2, 9,700′, distance: 5 miles, elevation gain: 1900′, under the right conditions we may move all the way to 11,000′ Day 6 Single to 11,000′, Camp 3, distance: 1.5 miles, elevation gain: 1300′ Day 7 Rest day Day 8 Carry to 13,500′ around Windy Corner, distance: 1.75 miles, elevation gain: 2500′ Day 9 Move to 14,200′, Camp IV, distance: 2.75 miles, elevation gain: 3200′ Day 10 Back carry 13,500′ cache, distance: 1 mile, elevation gain: 700′ Day 11 Carry to 16,200′ , distance: 1 mile, elevation gain: 2000′. Day 12 Rest at 14,200′ Day 13 Move to 16,200 feet or 17,200′, Camp V, distance: 1.75 miles, elevation gain: 3000′ Day 14 Rest day or move to 17,200 feet, Camp VI, distance: 1.75 miles, elevation gain: 3000′ Day 15, 16, 17, 18 Summit days, distance: 4 miles, elevation gain: 3120′ Day 19 Return to 14,200 feet or 11,000′, distance: 2.25 miles Day 20 Return to Base Camp, 7,200′, distance: 11.25 miles, fly back to Talkeetna Day 21 Weather day
“For the Lord your God is the God of gods and the Lord of lords, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God who does not show partiality nor take a bribe. He executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and shows His love for the alien by giving him food and clothing.“
-Deuteronomy 10:17-18-
In May of 2015, I will be climbing Denali, the tallest mountain on the North American continent, with Christian flag in hand, to raise support for fighting human trafficking in Nepal. Please consider partnering with me to raise $5,000 for Tiny Hands International to aid in both their disaster relief efforts as well as their continued fight for freedom of those forced into human trafficking in Nepal.
Tiny Hands International
Every year an estimated 30,000 people are trafficked into India from Nepal and Bangladesh to be sold as slaves. Recently the 7.8-magnitude earthquake, which killed more than 8,000 people, has devastated poor rural communities, with hundreds of thousands losing their homes and possessions. Girls and young women in these communities have long been targeted by traffickers, and are now left even more vulnerable as a result of the disaster.
Tiny Hands International fights human trafficking through their transit monitoring programs where they have prevented thousands of women and children from a life of torture and unimaginable brutality. In addition to intercepting victims at the border, Tiny Hands actively pursues prosecutions against traffickers, saving hundreds of potential victims and deterring other potential traffickers. Finally, Tiny Hands ministers to abandoned and orphaned children with its multiple Children’s Homes throughout South Asia.
In June of 2011 I completed a 10 Day mountaineering course with mountain guides Matt Hegeman and Brent Langlinais. We completed 6 days of mountaineering training and a summit of Mt. Baker before continuing on to successfully summit Mt. Rainier via the challenging Kautz Route.
After returning from a trip on Denali in 2014, I learned of the tragic news that my former Rainier guide, Matt Hegeman and 5 more climbers had died in an avalanche on the Liberty Ridge of Rainier. My prayers are with the Hegeman family after the terrible incident. Matt was a phenomenal guide who taught me how to safely climb on my first mountaineering experience. I was personally roped up with him for the entirety of the ten-day trip, and thanks to him, I had a wonderful experience and a successful summit.
I have compiled 5 valuable lessons Matt taught me about mountaineering.
1. Lower your ski pole
“Keep your arms low below your heart and your hands will stay warmer” – Matt- Before we took our first step onto Mt. Baker, Matt shared with us this brilliant little tip. Three years later and I still walk with some of the shortest poles on the team. This tip has kept my hands warm and frostbite free. Matt was detail oriented and full of simple tips that actually make a huge difference.
Matt teaching us to lower our poles
2. A good mountaineer…looks good doing it
“There is a reason you don’t see pictures of Ed Viesturs climbing with gear hanging all over the place.” -Matt- Keeping a tightly packed bag and well-organized gear seems like a no brainer, but Matt’s acute eye for perfection taught me that good looks can be functional as well. Sticking to this rule has, many times, saved me from losing a critical piece of gear.
Matt showing us how to look good climbing
3. Laugh a little, climbing should be fun
“Who needs hair gel? If you don’t use shampoo it just works itself out” -Matt- Matt took climbing extremely seriously but he never took himself seriously. He always knew how to inject humor into the conversation and keep the team laughing.
Matt photo-bombing our picture
4. There is always time to do it right the first time
“Mental fortitude trumps fitness ninety percent of the time” -Matt- Hegeman was an intensely philosophical climber who always showed us the most technically accurate method of mountaineering. As a new climber I was greatly impressed by his greater focus on keeping your mind sharp and letting your training take care of the rest.
Matt teaches us how to build a proper anchor
5. Safely returning home is the only goal that truly matters
“Most people can tell when it is time to turn around, but if not I will tell them.” – Matt- Matt loved to climb but knew the importance of doing so safely. He taught me that it is OK to turn back from the summit, it will still be there tomorrow. A hard lesson that he instilled in me from the start.
Guide Matthew Hegeman and I just before the summit of Mt. Rainier
Mt. McKinley, known by its native name of Denali, is the tallest mountain on the North American continent standing at 20,320ft. In June of 2014, Parker made a second attempt to complete his second summit of the Seven Summits on Denali.
I am climbing to raise support for a great cause! Your donations will be matched thanks to a sympathetic donor! Go here to learn more!
Summary:
After 21 days of climbing on the mountain, one week of sleeping at High Camp (17,200ft), battling -52°F wind chill, 50mph winds, constant white-out conditions, and a 24hr “death march” from High Camp to Base Camp, our team returned safely to Talkeetna, Alaska with no major injuries or frostbite. No climbers summitted during the days we spent at High Camp, and the few private teams that made attempts were either injured or turned back by the high winds and cold temperatures. We were the only guided team to hold out at High Camp through that time period and I am thankful for our guides who gave us the best possible chance at a summit, but who also had the wisdom to hold us back when the weather was unsafe to climb. I will be updating this post with notes and pictures over the next few days.
The Approach:
Houston, TX to Talkeetna, AK
May 23, 2014
After spending all night packing, a full day of work, and fighting rush hour traffic, I arrived at the airport on time, thanks to a ride I bummed from my buddy Taylor. Denali requires a lot of gear, and I made the mistake of waiting until the night before the trip to get it all together, sacrificing any hope of sleep in the process. I made it through security and randomly ran into a co-worker, Amber, on the same flight. I made a few new friends, chatted about the mountains, snuck onto the plane with my overweight carry-on, and passed out moments after take-off. A quick 10 minute transfer in Denver and I was on my next flight to Anchorage, once again, desperately attempting to catch up on sleep.
Gear Check at AMS Headquarters
May 24, 2014
We landed in Anchorage, Alaska at 1:00am in the morning and the only thing that was open was the terminal McDonald’s. I slammed a tasty Double Cheeseburger Meal (you get a free pass on healthy eating during vaca, right?) before heading on to grab my bags. My train ride wasn’t until 8:15am, so I found myself sleeping on a bench next to a handful of other assorted hippies and travelers.
Smoky Clouds at the Anchorage Train Station, Elevation 38ft
On the way to the train station, the smoke in the sky became immediately apparent. My co-worker in Anchorage, Sam, had warned me of the wildfires in Kenai that were clouding the air with smoke. I didn’t notice a smell, but was happy to be on the way to Talkeetna where the skies are clear and the sun never sets.
Train to Talkeetna
The train ride to Talkeetna is filled with beautiful countryside, wildlife, mountains, and scenery. Talkeetna is a quaint little town and the last stop for mountaineers before serving as a launching pad for flying onto the mountain. I checked into the House of Seven Trees Hostel and got settled in before taking a walk down to the Susitna River. For dinner I headed over to the West Rib Pub for a burger. I haven’t quite worked up the appetite for their Man vs. Food options, but I’m sure I’ll be back to conquer that post-climb.
Dog Sled in Downtown Talkeetna
May 25, 2014
Today I partook in the Skills Workshop in preparation for the climb. While it was not required, it was a good opportunity to meet several of my teammates and practice together before flying out. I had a chance to meet our guides Larry Holmgren and Dusty Eroh. They definitely know their stuff and I will be in good hands. Most of the day was spent going over basic rope team glacier travel, knots, running protection, and crevasse rescue. It was a good refresher and gave plenty of time for me to get to know my teammates Frank, Kyle, and Uwe. The remaining two, David and Kali, will join us in the morning. Of the six of us, half have been on the mountain before, and each were forced to turn around on account of poor weather conditions.
Practicing Crevasse Rescue
With tomorrow being Memorial Day, I decided to pay my respects to a different kind of memorial over at the Talkeetna Cemetery. Over 100 climbers have died attempting Mount McKinley and their names, ages, and countries are recorded on a plaque. It is a humbling reminder of the seriousness of the mountain.
Observing the Denali Climbers’ Memorial
Walking through town after dinner and I had the honor of meeting Talkeetna’s famous Mayor Stubbs, the cat. Folklore has it that the townspeople of Talkeetna were so upset by the disappointing candidates for Mayor that they petitioned for Stubbs to win the vote via a write-in. Sure enough Stubbs won and has been Mayor ever since. Stubbs is 16 years old and just last year survived a dog attack that left him in the hospital. Today he seemed happy to relax in the sun and make the best of his ninth life.
Me and Talkeetna’s Mayor Stubbs
May 26, 2014
Our team spent the day meticulously reviewing our gear to make sure nothing has been left behind. We packed lunch bags full of high protein/high calorie food, snacks, and candy bars. After running down the checklist and marking everything off, our team dawned our “Action Suit” and packed up for the plane flight onto the glacier.
Final ChecklistLarry, Uwe (Oo-va), Parker, David, Dusty, Kyle, Frank, Kali
The Climb:
Lower Glacier 7,200ft
May 26, 2014
Today we flew onto the glacier and setup base camp at 7,200ft for the night. Kyle, Frank, and I take one tent while Uwe, David, and Kali take the other tent. Kyle and Frank are also returning to Denali for the second time. They were turned back at Windy Corner in 2013 due to high rock fall. My former Denali guide from 2012, Dustin English, also flew in with a separate team and will be on the same pace as us, on the West Buttress, except his team plans to do a traverse after the summit.
Dinner: Salmon Burgers w/ Cheese and Spinach Salad
Plane Landing at Base Camp
May 27, 2014
We woke up at 4AM and it took quite a while to get everyone packed and roped up. We were moving by 7:30AM and it took us 3.5hrs to descend Heartbreak Hill and advance to Camp 1 at 7.800ft. Our guides comment that we are a fast group compared to some others which have taken as much as 8hrs to make the move. We are feeling confident and relatively strong. We dug a kitchen out of the snow to set up our “Mid” (kitchen tent). It snowed all day with white-out conditions preventing views of the mountains. Despite the poor conditions, it was a nice relief from the typically hot lower glacier to be shaded from the sun.
Preparing to leave Denali Base CampDenali 7,800ft Camp in 2012 (This year was too white-out for pictures)
May 28, 2014
Today should have been a cache day to 10,000ft but there was over a foot of fresh snow and no visibility so we took a weather day to wait for the conditions to improve. The Japanese team went for it today and it took them 12 hours to to complete the cache, causing one team member to quit the expedition.
Breakfast: Bagels w/ Sausage and Cheese | Dinner: Mac & Cheese w/ Chili and Bacon
David, Uwe, Kali, Parker, Kyle on our weather day
May 29, 2014
After burning up a weather day yesterday, we were anxious to put in the cache at 10,200ft today but the weather is still uncooperative. We prepare for a tough day and head out into 0°F wind chill temperatures with no visibility whatsoever. We got lost a bit at the beginning, having to cross back and forth across the glacier looking for the route, all the while breaking trail through the heavy snow. Eventually, with the GPS coordinated we found our way and made it to the cache site. I had to use my heaviest gloves today to fight the cold. All of my gear and clothing is coated in a film of ice from the climb today. It is strange to see conditions this bitter on the lower glacier.
Breakfast: Hashbrowns | Dinner: Noodle Stir Fry
Taking a break on the way to the cache
Camp 11,200ft
May 30, 2014
“Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”
-Matthew 10:29-31-
Hauling our gear to the next Camp
Today should be our move day to 11,200ft camp but we once again awoke to terrible weather, high winds, and white out conditions. Compounding the problem, our Mid ripped in the night after the snowfall collapsed the tent on top of a fuel can. The guides delay the move in hopes of clearing weather while they repair the tent. By noon, little has changed and they leave it up to a vote with the understanding that this may be one of the most challenging moves of the trip. Our team confidently agrees that we are willing to press on despite the weather. David and I volunteer to take the spots just behind the guides on the rope teams and end up breaking trail all day. We pass multiple dead birds along the way today; one was even under our tent as we packed up. They freeze to death after being blown onto the glacier by the storms. It is an ominous sign that we are in an extremely uninhabitable place. Due to the late start, we didn’t make it to 11,200ft camp until 9PM. Today was cold enough to require face protection to avoid frostbite. I was constantly having to swing blood into my arms to keep my fingers from going numb. This is not typical for the lower mountain, but if we have to have bad weather, I’d rather deal with it now than on summit day.
Breakfast: Tofu Scramble Burritos | Dinner: Pesto Pasta
Eating inside of our “Mid” (Kitchen tent)
May 31, 2014
We slept in a bit today after a hard day of work yesterday. We awoke to at least a foot of fresh snow, having to unbury the tents and build a kitchen. -10°F wind chill temperatures as we head down to retrieve the cached gear. With the stinging winds, this is likely some of the coldest weather I have ever felt. On the way back from the cache, we unfortunately got stuck behind a very slow-moving Japanese team who are just finishing their long move day. We all struggled to keep our hands warm and were happy to finally return to camp and enjoy some tasty pizza for dinner.
The first clear day of the trip, we can see the route for the first time as well as the awesome Mount Foraker in the distance. Our guides want us to wait before putting in our cache at 13,500ft due to high winds at Windy Corner. It can be hard to wait when the weather seems so clear but there is no reason to make a decision in haste. The danger of the same corner prematurely ended the climbs of my tent-mates the year prior.
“One cannot conceive grander burial than that which lofty mountains bend and crack and shatter to make, or a nobler tomb than the great upper basin of Denali; but life is sweet and all men are loath to leave it, and certainly never men who cling to life had more cause to be thankful.”
-Episcopal Archdeacon, Hudson Stuck, Leader of First Successful Ascent of Denali in 1913-
Today was the beautiful climb to the 13,500ft cache that moves up Motorcycle Hill to Squirrel Hill, to the Polo Fields, and then around Windy Corner to the cache site. I took spot 2 on the rope team again today and broke trail most of the day. We cross several exposed crevasses today including the section where four bodies are still trapped from an avalanche in 2012. Windy Corner lived up to its name, but I learned my lesson in 2012 and made sure to keep my hands and face well covered to avoid frostbite. Kali got tangled up in her sled rope and fell a couple of times on the way down but I was just behind her on the rope team and caught her each time. The views on today’s route are incredible, but the temperatures are noticeably colder by at least 20 degrees compared to the last time I was here in 2012.
Climbing Squirrel Hill towards Windy Corner
As I struggle to fall asleep with some stomach pain, the commotion of the Japanese can be heard from across the camp. They must be playing some sort of game because every few minutes the whole group roars into a progressively louder “aaaaaAAAH!!!!!!” before following with some laughter. The sound reminds me of the scene in Indiana Jones where a snake charmer taps on a snake bucket and the whole crowd gathers around to place their bets. I have no idea what the Japanese are up to, but I’m sure it is something equally foreign to my imagination. In such an uninhabitable place, moments like this offer a brief mental relief. The joy of the human spirit stands in contrast to constant realization that we are sleeping in a land not meant for human beings.
Breakfast: Oatmeal and Pop Tarts | Dinner: Rice, Bean, and Sausage Burritos
A CMC (Clean Mountain Can)
Camp 14,200ft
June 3, 2014
Today is one of the longer move days on the expedition as we advance to 14,000ft camp. At this point I am thankful that I spent so much time consolidating my gear into the lightest bunch possible before the trip. Many climbers make the mistake of carrying heavy loads because they bring to many “nice to haves” rather than “need to haves”. Gear is a poor substitute for experience. It cannot get you up the mountain. Pack light and pack smart. In the mountains, grams = ounces, ounces = pounds, and pounds = PAIN! Speaking of pounds, our expedition carried a total of 1,000lbs of gear onto the glacier divided among the eight of us. While my personal gear was a bit lighter, thanks to some careful packing, I was still responsible for carrying my portion of group gear including tents, stoves, food, etc…
The weather continues to improve today turning slightly warmer with almost no wind and few clouds. This is an especially rare treat for what has been, thus far, a relatively gloomy trip. I am on a strong rope team today with Frank and Kali. As we finished Motorcycle Hill and took a break at the base of Squirrel Hill, you could begin to hear that not all was well with our other rope team. I can faintly make out Kyle and Dusty yelling back and forth about a crampon. Apparently Kyle had stepped into a crevasse and lost his crampon, an absolutely critical piece of gear that keeps one from slipping and falling off the mountain. He kept his balance as Uwe helped retrieve the crampon, and put it back on while on the side of the steep icy slope, only to have it fall off again 5 minutes later because he had too much snow between the crampon and his boot. Meanwhile he is getting crossed up with the rope and there is little his teammates can do to safely help. The entire crisis lasts near half an hour as my rope team continues to wait just out of sight. After what felt like an eternity, they rounded the corner, looking slightly unnerved, and joined our rope team once again.
At the top of Motorcycle Hill where we waited
The rest of the day went much smoother, but my rope team ended up leading the whole day, meaning I was once again breaking trail the entire time. As we took a break at the cache site, David and I petitioned to haul it up with us rather than doing a back carry the following day. Our half-hearted plea was mostly ignored as everyone was ready to just get to camp and were far too tired to carry any additional gear.
Just beyond Windy Corner, Mt. Foraker (17,400ft) in the distance
We entered 14,200ft Camp and moved into and abandoned “compound” where a previous team had already built ice walls. It feels incredibly rewarding to be back at 14k after being gone for two years and working so hard to return. I feel as if my climb is, just now, finally beginning.
Breakfast: English Muffins and Sausage w/ Jam and Cream Cheese | Dinner: Rice and Chicken w/ Curry
Our camp at 14,200ft
June 4, 2014
We sleep in, then spend an hour and a half going down to 13,500ft and retrieving our cached gear. I got to lead on the way down which was fun, but that meant I was at the end of the rope on the way back. The back of the rope is no fun because you tend to get whipped around; as the lead climber is coming over a hill and speeding up yet you are still on your way up the hill and having to hurry to keep the pace. I would be happy to take my spot at the front again, even if that means I have to break trail.
Heading down to retrieve the cache
Back at 14k Camp the guides call a team meeting to decide how we feel about advancing to 16,200ft to put in our cache tomorrow rather than taking the usual rest day. Half of the team admits to being tired after the long move but everyone agrees that we should give it our best effort and keep pushing forward. The decision would send us up the steep and icy fixed lines the following day, so we spent the afternoon practicing fixed line ascension and clipping in and out of running protection.
14,200ft Camp is like a small village with tents and teams scattered all over inside of ice-block walls with snow trampled foot paths wandering from camp to camp. It is an international affair with many camps flying national flags spanning from Canada to Belgium to Ecuador and everything in between. Spaniard Kilian Jornet is preparing for a speed ascent of the mountain and descent on skiis. Another group of skiers are walking from camp to camp trying to unload unused food and fuel after a completed trip. A helicopter flies in and out from the National Park Service tent to resupply its volunteers. Two famed Nepalese Sherpa have been honored to join the Park Service for the climbing season. A team of active military jokingly display a “Free WiFi” sign. This small international village, perched on the side of Mt. McKinley, is unlike anything else in the world.
Climbers giving away leftover supplies
There is not enough group gear for everyone to carry an equal load tomorrow so the guides decide we will draw straws to see who has to carry the extra weight. Dusty, Kali, Frank, and Uwe draw the short straws while the rest of us will carry only personal gear to the cache. Kyle is low on salty food so I make a trade of 3 packs of Corn Nuts in exchange for 6 Gu packets my way. I’m getting to know my teammates a little better. Frank once circumnavigated the globe by bicycle in his early 30s. Kyle has climbed many spectacular peaks around the globe. David has climbed 49 of the 50 highpoints in the States, Denali being the 50th. German, Uwe is a former math prof turned Silicon Valley data miner who is also an avid surfer. Kali is a member of the Air Force and we have many climbs in common. When not guiding, Dusty is a professional seamster, making custom backpacks, wallets, and bike bags. Larry splits his time between guiding in Alaska and South America, as well as leading fishing trips and wilderness film crews. Our team is just as diverse as the camp which we call our temporary home.
Breakfast: Hashbrowns and Bacon w/ Cream Cheese and Picante | Dinner: Pasta w/ Olive Oil and Tomatoes
Uwe drawing straws
June 5, 2014
As we were hurrying to gear up for our ascent of the fixed lines, we are suddenly halted by Dusty who delivers the news that Larry is not feeling well. Since Dusty can only lead a max of four team members on his rope, two of us would have to stay behind at 14k camp while Larry rested to try and get well. Since I had been up the lines in 2012, the guides decided I did not need the experience as much as my fellow teammates and that I would be staying behind. Kyle decided that he could use a rest day and volunteered to stay behind as well. The other four would be advancing the gear to 16,200ft with Dusty at the lead. Kyle convinces David to carry his personal gear up to the cache on his behalf, a move he likened to winning the lottery twice in one day. I was left with my personal gear in hand, likely to have a slightly heavier pack once we made the full move to high camp. It’s a little disappointing watching your teammates take off without you; feeling like you let them down, but I understood the decision and took the opportunity to take a nap.
Three short hours later and the rope team returns a bit earlier than expected. Apparently the heavy snow of the day began to sluff at the base of the fixed lines, causing quite dangerous conditions. They were forced to abandon the cache at the base of the lines and return to camp having completed a little more than half of the intended move. It sounded like a stressful day, and Dusty made a point to reiterate the importance of loud communication while on the rope to ensure safety. Larry claims to be feeling better at dinner, but the guides determine that tomorrow will be a rest day.
Today is a rest day for the team but due to my extra rest yesterday I am feeling more like advancing to High Camp. Despite my readiness, I understand the importance of allowing everyone to recover before safely continuing. The downtime allows us to catch up on camp gossip. After a slow move to 14k Camp, Dustin’s traverse team has abandoned their traverse ambition for a lighter North+South summits goal. A wealthy female climber with three personal guides gave up on the climb after a hard day on the fixed lines. The owner of our guide company is personally leading a Chinese woman to High Camp today. She is attempting a speed record for completing all seven summits after a controversial summit on Everest last month. The Japanese team moves to High Camp today.
A trail of climbers heading up the Headwall from 14k Camp
Dusty grabs an intern guide and heads back to the fixed lines to see if they can advance the cache abandoned by our team the day prior. They return several hours later having succeeded in pushing the cache to 16,200ft and reporting that the fixed lines were now in much better condition. The intern, named Base, looks exhausted from the long day, but we all thank him for his help and share in our meatball dinner as we prepare for our move to High Camp tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the highest I have been on the mountain since 2012 – when we were turned back by avalanche danger after reaching the 16,200ft cache.
Breakfast: French Toast w/ Syrup | Dinner: Italian pasta and Meatballs
High Camp 17,200ft
June 7, 2014
Today the guides assign positions on the rope teams for the first time. I would be on the back of Dusty’s rope with Kali and Frank in front of me. This would leave me with the responsibility for cleaning the carabiners from each of the running protections as we traveled along the precarious ridge to high camp. I was invigorated to see High Camp for the first time and was feeling plenty up for the challenge. I carry a full pack today because I am the only one with personal gear that didn’t make it to the cache.
Climbing towards the fixed lines with 14k Camp below
We make it to the usually busy fixed lines, and only two other teams are following us up to High Camp. One team led by another guide service, Mountain Trip, and the second team composed of NPS volunteers and a Sherpa. My rope team handles the fixed lines well, finishing a good 15 minutes ahead of our other team who is struggling a bit with the altitude. We congratulate the Chinese woman as she passes on the down lines after successfully summitting in only 7 days. From the top of the fixed lines we retrieve the cache and move past Washburn’s Thumb and along the high ridge to camp, clipping into running protection all along the way. The altitude is getting to some of our teammates. One team member loses his footing in a relatively tame section, which causes Dusty to consider turning the team around for safety. Another team member has such labored breathing he appears he could collapse with exhaustion at any moment. Unfortunately, there is no margin for error on the razor-thin ridge. With several thousand feet of drop off on either side, everyone had to draw on their reserve strength to stay focused and make it to camp safely.
Parker at 16,200ft
After 8 long hours we finally make it to High Camp at 17,200ft above sea level. We work hard to set up a solid camp but several of the teammates are so oxygen deprived that they can barely lift a shovel. I join Dusty, Larry, and Kali in the guide tent to help conserve space as they will be cooking in the vestibule rather than setting up the Mid at High Camp.
Washburn’s Thumb on the way to High Camp
While eating dinner, we listen to the radio as the Japanese team struggles to descend from the summit. A few of the climbers were so exhausted that they lashed two rope teams together to prevent a dangerous fall. The sound of a 20 hour summit day did not sound that appealing, and I am hoping that we are strong enough to complete it closer to 12 hours. The weather forecast comes over the radio forecasting some extremely poor conditions beginning on Monday the 9th. Our guides decide that our best opportunity to summit will be in the morning before the “nuclear” winds and freezing temperatures arrive. It’s hard to fall asleep knowing that everything you have been working for could come to fruition the following day.
Breakfast: Bagel w/ Cheese and Bacon | Dinner: Mashed Potatoes
June 8, 2014
We wake up to snow and strong winds today. As the weather deteriorates, the guides call off the summit attempt rather than risk potential frostbite by pushing through the cold. With today’s opportunity gone and a “nuclear” forecast of -20°F temperatures and 40mph winds beginning tomorrow, our only hope of a summit window is that the storm doesn’t arrive as forecasted or that it lifts before our last weather day on Thursday the 12th. Having finished their summit, the Japanese head down. Having heard the ominous forecast, the NPS and Mountain Trip teams flee from High Camp and abandon any chance at the summit. Dustin’s traverse team is down below at 14k Camp and decides to stay put rather than advance into questionable weather. We could descend today before the storm comes in, but that would almost definitely be the end of our trip. We feel strong and decide to hold out, despite the coming weather, in the hopes we may get a rare summit window. With the exception of a private team consisting of a couple of Russians, all other teams have left from High Camp.
Breakfast: Oatmeal | Dinner: Cheese and Baconbit Quesadillas
June 9, 2014
The sky actually looks much clearer today than it did yesterday, but the sunshine is deceiving. Strong winds are whipping over the summit and Frank records the wind chill at -30°F. The guides seemed like they would really like to attempt the summit but they call it off by noon due to the high winds. They made the right call as gusts of 50mph reach camp by this afternoon. Despite the freezing cold, the tent has a way of acting like a convection oven in the afternoon sun. With the UV rays bouncing off the walls it can reach an exhausting 90°F inside of the tent on a bright day; over 100° higher than the frostbite inducing cold perilously waiting just beyond the tent wall.
Despite the freezing temperatures and wind, I choose to run food and water to our teammates in the other tent simply to escape the heat of our noonday tent. After losing feeling in my fingers within seconds of stepping outside, I quickly question the wisdom of this charity walk. At this altitude, you pay the price for fresh air.
Breakfast: Oatmeal | Dinner: White Rice and Tasty Bites
Looking up at the summit winds from High Camp
June 10, 2014
Today brought sustained winds of 35mph with even higher gusts all night long. We definitely will not be attempting the summit today. It took 4 hours to finish boiling water and preparing breakfast. The winds caused a snowdrift to completely bury and nearly collapse the other tent. In a panic, several of the team members were running around in the cold like chickens with their heads cut off. The guides rush in yelling to cover their faces and hands before they get frostbite, and they work quickly to solve the problem. As they shoveled snow away to uncover the tent, they had to run back to our tent multiple times to thaw their frozen fingers. Their pained faces and relentless cursing conveyed the severity of the situation. I meagerly offered to help, to which I was sternly told to “STAY IN THE TENT!” I got the picture and stayed out of the way, thankful that they were working hard to keep us safe.
After the ordeal, you could sense that the other tent was beginning to lose some morale. While most teams spend little more than 24 hours at High Camp we were now on Day 4 with no relief in sight. Once everyone calms down and warms their frozen bodies back to life, the guides explain that we will be here no more than two more days. Thursday the 12th will be our “Up or Down” day based on the weather. Despite the challenges thus far, I’m still feeling quite strong and desperately want an opportunity at the summit. I feel like, after what we have been through, we have earned the right to at least give it a chance. But the forecast comes on the radio and crushes that wish with a call for -25°F and 45mph winds, the worst we would see yet. The Russians came over to inquire about the forecast and responded with a choice exclamation that needed no translation. They were ready to go down and were wanting to follow us out as soon as we were ready to fight the weather.
I figure I should make use of the CMC before hell freezes over tomorrow. In the brief moments my hands are exposed, they instantly go completely numb. I have never felt such a stinging cold in my life. It took ten minutes of writhing pain in the tent before I could manage to have a conversation again. And another 30 minutes before the feeling was back to the fingertips. If tomorrow is any worse, you can bet I won’t be leaving the tent for anything. I’m still holding out hope that Thursday might clear and we can make a summit bid.
Breakfast: Hashbrowns | Dinner: Quesadilla
Our tents at Denali High Camp
June 11, 2014
As forecasted, today brings the most terrifyingly, bone-marrow-freezing temperatures I have ever experienced. Frank measures the wind chill at -52°F. Dusty went out to change the bag on the CMC and spent the next 20 minutes back in the tent thawing his hands and fighting frostbite. I briefly helped Uwe shovel the tent but quickly lost feeling in my hands despite wearing my heaviest gloves. The sky is deceptively clear but the winds are still whipping on the summit. By late afternoon a team of four has come up from 14k Camp and pushes onward toward the summit. The Russians follow up briefly but turn back due to the unbearable cold. The team of four eventually falls 200ft down the Autobahn. Lucky to be alive, they abandon their summit bid and stumble back to High Camp for safety.
Tomorrow’s forecast predicts -20°F temperatures with 20mph summit winds. That temperature alone might be cold enough to call off a summit bid, but compounded with the winds and it is looking likely that tomorrow will be a “Down” rather than an “Up” day. I ask the guides about the possibility of extending our time for a few more days, with the hopes of a possible weather window. They sharply turn down the proposal, knowing that if we don’t take the opportunity to go down, we could be stuck indefinitely. None-the-less, they stand on their word that if tomorrow’s weather is better, we may still attempt the summit. I’m hopeful for clear weather, but I’m equally realistic about both the forecast and our deteriorating strength after a week of brutal weather at High Camp.
Breakfast: Granola w/ Raisins and Sugar | Dinner: Ramen Noodles w/ Beef and Baconbits
The Descent
June 12, 2014
We awoke today with the winds still blowing strong across the summit and the temperatures have not lightened in the least. With the outward forecasts getting better a few teams, including Dustin’s traverse team, are coming up to High Camp today, but we know that without the ability for a summit bid, it is time to go down. We pack camp and rope up for the descent from High Camp. I will be on the front of the first rope team and have the responsibility of preparing the running protection for our team. (The guides typically take the back spot on descent so they can self arrest and catch the team in the case of a fall) It is an awesome feeling to be the first to walk out onto the ridge with nothing in front of you but Mt. Foraker in the distance and thousands of feet of relief on either side of your feet.
I quickly got the hang of finding the protection, adding a carabiner, and clipping off our rope. As we neared the fixed lines we were met with a backlog of climbers moving up to High Camp. Dusty yelled down that I should find the down route just below on the right side of the ridge. I struggled to find the route and had to depend on David to hold me on the rope as I precariously slid around on the side of the ridge slope – searching for another way around. It was so steep that my feet were giving way, and there was little to stop me from sliding thousands of feet, aside from my trusty rope team. Realizing that I couldn’t make it any further without dragging the rope team off the side of the mountain, I yelled back that I couldn’t find the alternate route and Dusty encouraged me to return to the ridge if that was the only safe option.
Back on the ridge and feeling more at ease, we now had to battle a bit of a traffic jam. It took nearly as long to get down to the fixed lines as it had to come up. At times, I had to clip into the same running protection as the up climbers and do our best to avoid crossing ropes as we passed. By the time we made it to the fixed lines, Larry’s rope team was looking exhausted. He was concerned for everyone’s safety after some of our teammates had fallen along some dangerous areas on the ridge. We headed down the fixed lines with the rope teams much closer, in the event that Larry needed additional help with an exhausted climber. The weather turns for the worse and many teams are now turning around. Dustin’s traverse team also turns around, following in behind us as we descend the fixed lines.
Climbers on the fixed lines
Down from the lines and safely back at 14k Camp we duck into the Mid tent of a fellow AMS team to recover with fresh water and make dinner. After a challenging descent, our guides present us with two options. One is to go all of the way down to 7,800ft Camp tonight and then on to Base Camp in the morning. The second option is to stay at 14k Camp for the night and then complete the entire move in the morning. Our group is divided on the vote but the majority of us are prepared for the long descent and we agree to go with Option #1, the “Death March”.
June 13, 2014
Descending all through the night, we made our way around Windy Corner, back down to the Polo Fields, down Squirrel Hill, and down Motorcycle Hill, post-holing through deep snow all along the way. At times I would move too fast and my teammates behind would yell to slow the pace. It can be more unsettling to walk down a steep icy slope than to go up, especially if you are in the back and feel like you are being dragged down the mountain by the guy on the front of the rope team. I had to learn to be patient and set a more deliberately safe pace.
Taking a break on the Polo Fields
We made it to 11,200ft Camp in the early hours of the morning, dug up a cache of gear we had left behind, and switched to snowshoes before moving on. Now that we had passed the steepest portions of the climb, Dusty was willing to come up from the back spot and lead the rope again. I was so mentally exhausted from a night of trail-finding and pacesetting that I was relieved to be able to relinquish the responsibility.
After several more frozen hours, we finally reached 7,800 Camp and decided to bivy (sleep without tents) for a few hours of rest. After sleeping in the open for three short hours, we got up to continue the final push toward Base Camp. The final push into Base Camp is marked by 600ft of ascent known as Heartbreak Hill. After a 24hr death march, the last thing that anyone wants to do is to hike back up a hill. But the glacial landing strip is at the top and we had little choice. Such an ill-placed Hill has the ability to crush a man’s soul. Having learned my lesson two years ago, I made sure to save enough energy and Gu packets to make it up the hill and back to Base Camp.
Kali organizing her bivy
We arrived in Base Camp just under 24 hrs after leaving High Camp the day before. Although planes had flown out that morning, the increasing cloud cover and snow put the camp on hold for the time being. We waited until early evening before resigning to our fate and pitching tents for the night. After all of that work, we would have to stay at Base Camp until the weather cleared and the landing strip became flyable again.
Waiting at Base Camp for a plane
June 14, 2014
In the morning we receive word that despite the clouds, a few planes would try to make it into Camp to take out climbers. There was a four-day storm forecasted to roll in and this may be the last opportunity to get off of the glacier for days. We packed up our gear and anxiously awaited alongside the snowy makeshift “runway”. The buzz of the propeller overhead was the most comforting sound we had heard all week. Within minutes we had loaded the plane and were on our way back to Talkeetna…back to civilization, warm showers, cheeseburgers, porcelain toilets, comfy shoes, and fluffy beds.
Flying from Denali back to civilization
Post Climb:
Back in Talkeetna I was happy to see my Dad who had traveled up on vacation to enjoy the mountain views, support my climb, and hang out once I got off the mountain. We got to celebrate Father’s Day and eat a delicious post-climb lunch with the team before everyone parts ways.
Celebrating with Dad in Talkeetna
Having now been on Denali two separate seasons without a summit, I can say that this trip was far colder, far tougher, and far more challenging than anything I have ever experienced. Despite our best efforts, we were once again defeated by adverse weather. Although we didn’t get an opportunity at the summit I had an amazing experience that I will never forget. The views from the high ridge, the thrill of setting a personal record, even the frigid cold of High Camp are experiences that I will never forget. Of course I would love to go back and have a chance at a true summit bid. But until then, I am happy with the success of our team this year. Our guides gave us the best possible chance at a summit and did their job well in bringing me home safely. Thanks to their wisdom I will continue to climb again.
Upon return from the mountain I learned that my former Rainier guide, Matt Hegeman, had died in a terrible accident on Mt. Rainier. My prayers go out to the Hegeman family. Matt was a terrific guide who first taught me how to mountaineer back in 2011. I have written here on the 5 lessons that I learned from Matthew Hegeman.
“‘Go up into the mountains and bring down timber and build my house, so that I may take pleasure in it and be honored,’ says the Lord.”
-Haggai 1:8-
In May of 2014 I will be climbing Denali, the tallest mountain on the North American continent, with Christian flag in hand, to raise support for the building of a church in the most remote region of the Himalayas. Consider partnering with me to raise $19,300 and secure the land for the first church ever built within the district of Humla, Nepal. Thanks to a sympathetic donor, your donations up to $10,000 will now be matched, dollar for dollar!
Future location of church in Humla, Nepal
Humla is the highest district in Nepal – higher than the Solukhumbu District, where Everest is located – with 89 percent of the land ranging in elevation from 9,800 to more than 16,500 feet (3,000-5,000 meters). There are no roads, and no electricity and no communication network in most of the district. There is, however, a deeply rooted belief in Tibetan Buddhism. Some of Nepal’s oldest Buddhist monasteries – dating back as far as 1,000 years – are found in Humla. Trekkers from around the world join Buddhists and Hinduists on the trail leading northwest from the capitol of Simikot toward China, four or five days walk away, and on to their holy Mount Kailash.
The District of Humla in northwestern Nepal
In a nation that is considered 97 percent “unreached” by the Gospel, Humla stands out. For many it is a district that is out of reach. I have partnered with Climbing for Christ to raise $19,300 to purchase land in the heart of Humla to establish their first ever Christian church.
Climbing for Christ is a Christian organization whose mission is to take the Gospel to those living in mountainous areas of the world where other missionaries cannot or will not go. When Climbing for Christ first arrived in Humla on mission in 2012, there were fewer than 10 Christians in a region of over 50,000 people. Just a couple of years later and the Christian community has now grown to more than 100.
Pastor Harka preaching to the house church in Simikot
This growing Christian community has organized in a local house under the direction of local Pastor Harka. With the funds raised, the church will be able to purchase land adjacent to the district hospital in order to begin building their much-needed church. Please consider partnering with me financially and in prayer for the church in Humla.
If you would like to support the church plant in Humla please fill out the form below. Climbing for Christ is a 501(c)(3) organization and all donations are tax-deductible. My climb is fully funded so any donation would go directly to the work in Nepal. If you would like to learn more about Climbing for Christ please visit their website at www.climbingforchrist.org or read the most recent trip report on the church in Humla. To read about the church built in Rolpa in 2012 go here. Thank you for your prayers!
Thanks to a sympathetic donor, your donations up to $10,000 will now be matched, dollar for dollar!
So far we have raised $18,034 towards our $19,300 target! Thank you for your support.
“I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings…Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.”
-1 Corinthians 9:23,26-27-
With Denali only two more weeks away, I am finishing off the last of my training. On the mountain we will carry up to 100lbs of gear per person between our backpack and a sled that we drag behind. I’ve loaded up my backpack with 65lbs of weights and headed to the only hill in town to drag a tire, simulating the load of a sled.
In June of 2012 I partnered with Climbing for Christ to raise support, through a climb of Denali, to build a church in the remote mountain village of Rolpa, Nepal.
We needed to raise $2,000 to complete the building. Thanks to your generosity we raised over $4,000 to support the church plant and its local pastor Megh Gurung.
Pastor Megh Gurung standing in front of the new church in Rolpa, Nepal
Climbing for Christ is a Christian organization whose mission is to take the Gospel to those living in mountainous areas of the world where other missionaries cannot or will not go. Climbing for Christ missionary Tej Rokka was born a Nepalese orphan but through God’s sovereignty has now planted more than 20 churches throughout the Himalayas. Under his leadership, local pastor and mountain guide Megh Gurung oversaw construction of the church in the western district of Rolpa.
Pastor Megh Gurung sharing the Gospel in the new church
Nepal was once a Hindu kingdom and more than 80 percent of the population is Hindu. Another 12 percent are Buddhist. Maoists have risen to political power and have an army still in place from the bloody civil war that lasted from 1996-2006. All of the above threaten the growing Christian church, but none of the above can stop its growth. It is estimated that there are between 700,000 and 1 million Christians in Nepal.
I had the opportunity to meet one of these Christians two years ago on a trek to Mount Everest. Thupten was a practicing Tibetan monk who fled to Nepal to escape religious persecution. While living in a monastery in a remote region of the Himalayas he encountered a Christian missionary who presented him with the Gospel. Thupten is now a faithful Christian, using his influence to share the Gospel with his fellow monks and villagers.
The new church, on a mountainside in Nepal’s remote Mid-West Rolpa
By praying and sharing communion with Thupten I realized the power of the Gospel in the hands of God’s faithful servants. I am encouraged to see that, thanks to your faithfulness, the community in Rolpa now has the chance to have their lives forever changed by the Gospel just like Thupten. Thank you for your prayers and support!
“Every morning the bulls that are going to fight that afternoon released from the corrals on the far side of town and race through the long main street of the town to the bull ring with all the young bucks of Pamplona running ahead of them! A mile and a half run – all the side streets barred off with big wooden gates and all this gang going like hell with the bulls trying to get them…By God they have bull fights in that town…It isn’t just brutal like they always told us. It’s a great tragedy – and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and takes more guts and skill and guts again than anything possibly could.”
-Ernest Hemingway, July 1923-
As part of a two-week journey to climb Mt. Blanc, Mt. Elbrus, and Run with the Bulls, my friend Taylor and I arrived in Pamplona, Spain on July 11th.
July 11th – The Arrival
After more than 24 hours of planes, trains, automobiles, and layovers, we finally arrived in Pamplona, Spain at 6:00pm on Thursday. We stayed at the home of a friendly couple, Ella and Eneko, who rented out rooms in their apartment during the San Fermin festival. Upon hearing of our plans to run in the morning, they offered up advice on where to go and when to show up. Eneko has long lived in Pamplona but has never run himself because the race is “muy peligroso”. Nonetheless, he tells us exactly where to go, and lays out a plan for us on the city map.
We decided to go into town, map in hand, and walk the course in search of an appropriate starting point for the morning run. We walked to the bus station with another group who were staying in the home. They showed us the bus route to the town center and pointed us in the right direction for the Running of the Bulls. On the way to the course, we stopped by a local bar to enjoy some pinchos for dinner. Pinchos are an assortment of small finger-foods, in our case fried ham and shrimp.
Taylor on the bulls statue
Our taste buds satisfied, we headed over to the city walls of Pamplona. As the capital of the ancient Kingdom of Navarre, Pamplona’s walls are fortified in stone and protected by a moat and drawbridge. Near the edge of the city wall we found the corrals where the six fighting bulls and nine steers would be held just before the start of the race. From there we walked uphill along the course to the Plaza del Ayuntamiento where the historic town hall building is located. It was from this location that we would be waiting at at 7am in the morning until the Policía cleared the course of drunks and debris. From town hall, we continued onward to Dead Man’s Corner, a sharp right turn where bulls often get turned around becoming an extremely dangerous situation. Just beyond the corner is Estefeta street, a long narrow corridor that runs nearly a half mile to the Plaza de Toros bull ring. We picked a spot on Estefeta just past the corner and decided we would begin our bull run from there. This would allow us to run with the bulls nearly the entire length of the course, yet avoid the dangerous corner where many bulls have turned backwards on the course and gored men to death.
We bought our red bandanas and waistbands in the market and stumbled upon the nightly parade. It seemed that everyone who had run that day was celebrating in the parade by dancing behind the band and indulging in sangria. We joined in the procession for a lap around the square and enjoyed the people watching. Most had been drinking all day and their white clothes had been stained purple with wine. Hoping to keep our whites clean for the morning run, we parted ways with the hooligans and headed back for the evening. After all, we had only one shot at the race and it was sure to be another early morning.
July 12th – The Run
We awoke at 6am sharp, dawning our white pants and t-shirts, red bandannas and waistbands. I wore my Texas state flag bandanna in hopes the bulls would respect my inner cowboy, while Taylor wore his toughest motorcycle bandanna for intimidation effect. We caught the first bus into town and were waiting at Town Hall just as the sun began to rise.
Taylor at Town Hall before the run
There were people everywhere including a number of drunks who had yet to retire from the night before. We knew that the Policía would go through and weed out the riffraff, so we needed to stay in the square until ten minutes prior to the race before moving into our spot on Estefeta street. Sure enough, when the time arrived, the drunks were cleared as well as a few runners who had snuck in with cameras (not allowed in the race). We hid ours in our pockets until the cops were gone. At 7:50am the course was opened up and we hurried down to our pre-planned starting point. The street was crowded with young runners and the balconies were covered with curious onlookers. I stretched out my legs, made my peace with God, and waited for the gunshot to signal the bulls had been released.
Parker waiting for the run to begin
The tension in the air was at its peak as we and our fellow runners prepared to run with the bulls, and then the first gunshot fired. The second gunshot signaled that the last of the bulls had left the corral, and we knew it was a matter of seconds until a herd of angry beasts rounded the corner towards Estefeta. The crowd of runners became a bouncing sea of red and white as we jumped up and down to see down the street in anticipation of the oncoming herd. Taylor and I attempted to review our strategy, but before we could finish there were six tons of cattle rounding the corner and barreling down the street towards us. With my heart leaping into my throat I shouted the only word that I could think of in the moment…”BULLS!!!”
I shot out onto the street just as the bulls were approaching and immediately recalled that the people are the hidden danger of the race. The crowd was in a frenzy and runners were shoving and tripping over one another. My focus was just as much on dodging runners as it was bulls. As the bulls came up from behind, I was leaping over trampled runners to avoid the same fate. Within seconds, the last of the bulls was now passing and I was almost in the clear to run on safely towards the coliseum.
Just as the final beast passed, a fellow runner was tripped up and fell directly in front of the bull. The bull crashed over the runner and landed an angry mess on the side of Estefeta street. In the moment that the bull had fallen, I looked over and made eye contact with the furious bovine. For a second, time stood still. I recalled everything I had heard about the dangers of the race when the bulls crash and get turned around. In a rush, I ran away from the bull towards the far side of the street where a couple dozen other runners were pinned up for refuge. The nightmare became a reality when the half ton animal stumbled to its feet and turned our direction.
Instinct shocked through my nervous system and I exploded out of our corner and backwards down the street. The shrill scream of a frightened women could be heard from the balcony overhead. As I ran backwards, I watched as the bull began to gore its first victim. At first, it seemed as if the man might escape, until he tripped again and the bull came back with a vengeance. The bull, known as Langostero, thrust his pointed horns into the mans legs, shredding away his pants and tossing him about like a rag doll. This gruesome scene seemed to continue for an eternity until Langostero was distracted and fellow runners were able to pull the battered man to safety.
I continued on towards the arena, following at a safer distance from the enraged bull. Twice more along the way, Langostero would turn back towards us and the balconies would erupt in screams. Each time we would turn abruptly to avoid another unplanned bullfight. The final time was in the alley entrance to the arena in which I hopped the wooden barriers for safety. Here, Langostero pinned a man against the opposite barrier, piercing his horn through the man’s shoulder. Some brave runners once again distracted the bull and led him finally to the Plaza de Toros. I followed into the ring as the bulls were herded off to their pins. 20,000 onlooking spectators cheered at the completion of the week’s most violent bull run. I found Taylor, whom I had lost in the panic, and discovered that we had been no more than 20 feet apart throughout the entire run.
Parker and Taylor in the Plaza de Toros after the run
Once the Running of the Bulls was complete, smaller fighting bulls in training are released into the ring one at a time to have their way with the runners. We chose to stay around and practice our amateur matador skills. (These smaller bulls had their horns corked and taped for safety) Despite the smaller size of the training bulls, they would come exploding out of the gates with more force than an NFL lineman. Many unfortunate runners were trampled or knocked out by the young bulls’ ferocious power. The runners make a game out of attempting to tap the bull on the back without getting rammed by his blunted horns. We joined in the game and were able to slap the bulls twice each. One guy was rammed so hard that his head split open requiring stitches. Another girl was run over by the bull so fast that she received a concussion. After a good 30 minutes of tempting our fate with the training bulls, the morning was over and we had survived with little more than a scratch. We took a few pictures, and headed out of the coliseum, but not before I did my best Gladiator impression. In the words of Maximus, “Are you not entertained?!?”
Watch the full Run below. (Caution to those who are squeamish) You will find me at the 6:02 and forward mark wearing the blue head bandana in the bottom center of the screen.
July 12th – The Fight
Following the Running of the Bulls we celebrated by drinking a pint of Spain’s finest beer. I don’t always drink beer in the morning, but when I do, I prefer to run with the bulls first. Stay thirsty my friends. After the post-run adrenaline crash, we went back to the apartment to sleep until the evening’s bullfight. That evening we dined on some Spanish chorizo and ribs and then made our way back to the Plaza de Toros, but this time as spectators.
Watching a bullfight in the Plaza de Toros
The bullfight is steeped in tradition. There are six fights, one for each of the bulls from the morning’s run. The King of Navarre sits on his throne and armored horses enter the ring in a royal procession. The matadors follow and the crowd of 20,000 erupts in cheers. Each fight lasts about 20 minutes as the matador dances about the bull with the skill of an artist. With little to protect him except his experience and his cape, the matador skillfully distracts the bull from one side to another until the bull is exhausted and the matador inflicts his final, swift blow. With a single sword plunge to the heart, the fight is ended, the ear is removed as a tribute, and the armored horses remove the bull to be served on the local menus. This bloody affair may seem a bit grotesque or cruel if it weren’t for the local legend of matador, Juan José Padilla.
Matador and fighting bull
Juan José Padilla is the famed one-eyed matador who nearly lost his life at a bullfight in 2011. He received a horn through the jaw and out the left eye leaving him paralyzed on one side of his face; a reminder that every bull has his day and no matador has it easy. Padilla wears an eye patch and continues to fight more determined than ever. On this day, the skillful Padilla would fight Langostero, the bull who hours earlier had taught the runners to respect his fury. This match was almost poetic in nature. Bullfighting matador turned gore victim returns to the ring to fight the week’s most vicious of bulls. Padilla, having tasted the pain of defeat, respected the power of the bull. He skillfully flung his red cape before Langostero, narrowly dodging a horn to the side before masterfully spinning and bringing the bull around again. Padilla was a master of his craft, indeed, and had met his match in Langostero. After dancing on the line of fate, Padilla finally drew his sword and lay the beast to rest. Juan José Padilla bowed his hat to the King, to the crowd, and to the bull. The bravest man who ever lived.
We began the day in Cheget, Russia after our Elbrus climb and took a four hour taxi to Mineralnye Vody. Our flight to Moscow was smooth and we arrived at Sheremetyevo airport by 3pm. We set our bags down in our room at the Skypoint Hotel and took the Aeroexpress train into town. The train lets out at the Belarussky Station on the edge of Moscow. From there we had to take the Metro subway system to Red Square. The subway system in Moscow is a beautiful work of art with marble archways and statues throughout. All of the signs are in Cyrillic so we stood around for a good 15 minutes trying to figure out which train to take. A fellow American walked up to us in front of the subway map and said, “Are you guys lost too?” We all spent some time trying to decipher the hieroglyphics until Taylor found the train we needed to ride. Fortunately he was right.
Police marching outside of the KremlinTaylor and Parker at St. Basil’s Cathedral
As soon as we arrived at Red Square we went straight to the underground mall to eat at a Russian Sbarro’s. After dinner we walked around the entire perimeter of the Kremlin, and then we enjoyed the views from the center of the square. After taking some obligatory pictures of St. Basil’s Cathedral we headed to the extremely upscale government mall. We got a bottle of water and did some window shopping before heading back to the hotel. Our hotel was an hour away via Metro and train but it was right next door to the airport which was convenient for out 7:50am flight to Madrid in the morning.
The government mall
June 11
After a good night’s rest in Moscow, we are now in transit to Pamplona, Spain for the Running of the Bulls. The festival runs for two weeks and the bull run starts at 8am each morning. Taylor and I will join in the run tomorrow morning on Friday the 12th. After that we will be on our way back home on the 13th.
