Day 9 (June 4): Move to 14k Camp
The most demanding day of the trip.
Even with a substantial cache already buried higher up, moving camp permanently to 14,200 feet in Genet Basin was by far the most grueling, physically punishing day of the entire trip. Navigating the narrow, sloping ice trail around Squirrel Hill with loaded sleds was still a challenge. Depending on the conditions, Squirrel Hill could be one of the deadliest places on the mountain. If the conditions were icy, which they often were, a slip here with a sled meant going all the way down to the Peters Glacier, thousands of feet down. A climber perished this exact way last year. I concentrated fully on my steps even with the ideal snowier conditions. It took pure, raw willpower to keep taking step after step until we finally reached 14k Camp at around 7pm. Thankfully, the Alaskan sun was still high, which gave us some time to cook up and dry our kit before tucking in.
Day 10 (June 5): Cache Retrieval & Camp Construction
Weather continued to hold out on us. Despite total physical exhaustion from yesterday’s move, there was no luxury of sleeping in. One thing we didn’t get to do yesterday was picking up our cache (which contained our much-needed fuel). We dropped back down roughly 1,000 feet to unearth our Day 8 supply cache from past Windy Corner and hauled the heavy duffels back up to 14k Camp.
Rest of the day was spent digging out and building out a nice platform for us to sleep on and getting ready for our last moving day before the rest day.
Day 11 (June 6): Ascending the Headwall Fixed Lines
Capitalizing on the last day of this weather window, we geared up with double boots, crampons, and mechanical ascenders (jumars) to carry a major gear cache up to the 16,200-foot ridge. Looking up from 14k Camp, the massive, icy wall of the Headwall looks utterly vertical and intimidating, but once we were actively climbing, the physical rhythm took over. After grinding up 1,000 feet of steep snow, we clipped into the fixed ropes. This section is the entire reason why we carried an ascender, because it is vertical and icy. Alternatively, you can also approach the uncommon and riskier route via the snowy slopes of Rescue Gauley(condition dependent). Though Rescue Gauley is often avalanche-prone, exercise caution and listen to the rangers on this.
One of the tricks I picked up was to have a unique command or team name when you are clipping or unclicking to transition during this section. Because of the number of teams navigating through this section of fixed ropes, it sets you up well, free of frustrations, when you can hear what your teammate says, which is crucially important on this part.
Huge salute to the National Park Service Climbing Rangers and guide teams who undertake the backbreaking, hazardous labor of fixing these thick steel cables up the icy face every single season. Their dedication makes this steep, high-consequence section infinitely safer for every climber on the mountain. One of whom perished doing her duty. RIP Robin Pendery.
Day 12, 13 & 14 (June 7- June 9): Stuck in the Upper-Mountain Storm Hold
Today was a true, mandatory rest day for everyone in camp, including our hard-working guides. Though, this perfect weather wasn’t going to hold out on us the entire time; a storm is going to hit sometime over the next three days. As it goes, if you want something on Denali, you need to work for it. We spent several hours excavating a full snow bathroom complete with privacy walls, and further fortified our tent enclosures with dense snow bricks to prepare for an incoming storm forecasted to bring 60 mph winds.
The severe high-altitude environment took a heavy toll on our team today—a couple on our expedition had to make the devastating decision to turn back because one of them had extremity circulation issues that were getting worse every day; this would likely result in frostbite. The margin for error up here is zero; with nearly ten medical and high-altitude rescues happening around us during our time on the peak, the reality of the danger was constantly present.
Kindle had been hugely helpful on this trip during downtime. One of the books I picked up was “Denali’s Howl” on the tragedy of the 1967 Denali expedition. I’d recommend giving it a read if you can stomach it during your climb.
The weather turned out to be nothing more than clouds and some winds at 14k camp. The rumored snowstorm never came. However, higher up was a very different story. We could see the wind and the snowstorming up the 17th ridge.
After dinner, one of the American Alpine Institute’s teams ahead came down with angry climbers and injured independent climbers not on our team. Between rescuing the other teams, bad weather, and human decisions, there was no doubt that some didn’t have that great of a time up there. Decision-making is always difficult on the mountain; on one hand is the climbers’ safety, on the other, thousands of dollars saved over the years just gone. That is not counting the time taken away from loved ones.
Luckily, our team’s spirits remained high. The next day, the guides even brought out kites to take advantage of the wind that stalled our upward progress. We made our last preparations; the weather was looking to turn for the better over the next few days. We had been pouring over the various forecasts over the last few days. Knowing that some of the teams in May spent weeks waiting for a good weather window, just to run out of time, we were a bit nervous. Though in the back of our heads, we all knew that teams usually only have a 50 percent chance of summiting. Still, we liked our odds.
Day 15 (June 10): Ascent to High Camp (17,200′)
Waking up to great weather as promised by the forecasts. This might be our chance. We packed our bags with essential summit gear, said goodbye to the relative comfort of 14k Camp, and began the tense, methodical march up the razor-sharp, exposed crest of the 16k Ridge toward High Camp at 17,200 feet.
The air at this altitude is noticeably thin and sharp, forcing a slow, deliberate rest-step with every push upward over granite boulders, ice steps, and knife-edge snow ridges like Washburn’s Thumb. Despite the biting cold and intense physical strain, the jaw-dropping views of endless jagged peaks poking through a blanket of clouds thousands of feet below filled us with incredible energy. We marched slowly and methodically, picking up our cache along the way. After 9 hours we finally made it to the 17k camp, in position for a summit push. All we needed was a day of good enough weather.
Day 16 (June 11): Summit and An Almost Accident (20,310′)
13 hours round-trip.
One of the best things is that you don’t need to do alpine starts on Denali. After getting 9 hours of decent sleep, I woke up to the call to go to the summit. Summit push calls are often hard; weather has been unpredictable, and so were climbers’ bodily conditions after a carry day at altitude. Luckily, our team felt decent enough to push up.
One of the first obstacles we needed to navigate was the long line on the autobahn. This was officially the second weather window; a lot of the team decided to set off today. Since a team of Latvian climbers has already met their demise, we carefully clipped into the safety lines along the autobahn. Due to our team size, we spent quite a lot of time clipping and unclipping. Though cold, chilly, and someone on our team even needed to do a code brown, this beats death or serious injury any day.
We carefully navigated through to reach the Denali Pass and the warmth and the sunshine on it. The warm rays felt so good after a chilling 3 and a half hours of navigating the autobahn traffic jam. I quickly scoffed down some food and water, but opted to keep my synthetic belay pants on so I could generate some more heat as we navigated the next steeper sections, which also had safety lines that needed us to clip and unclip.
Once we are through the next steep section, we took a quick break to charge up the next sections. Zebra Rock and Football Field went surprisingly fast and well for me. Not long after, we were already charging up the Pig Hill. Unfortunately, that’s when we hit the crowd for the second time that day. Everyone was rushing somewhere. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a team taking an unusual descent route straight towards me. The guide was yelling commands while the client was inefficiently placing his crampons in the snow. I could see the spikes of the crampon mostly sticking out. “This doesn’t look like it had much purchase on the snow,” I thought. “Falling,” yelled out by an onlooker. Then a second later, that client started sliding quickly downwards towards me; the speed dragged down his entire rope team, now all barreling towards me. There was barely any time to think. I quickly jumped forward, plunging my ice axe down. Another guide from my team, Ross, who happened to be on another rope behind me, quickly stopped and anchored down as well. Then all was silent. I braced myself, then turned around to look. The falling rope team stopped just between Ross and me. Crowd-induced accidents are increasing every year in the big mountains, with fewer and fewer experienced people attempting summits. I was lucky to get away from these careless mountaineers unscathed.
Luckily, the final summit ridge was uneventful. We steadily moved through the pickets. Arriving at the prayer flags, a Nepalese tradition, but now an international sign of summit at 20,310 feet.
The day was sunny and largely free of wind. But the chilling temperature and my quickly frozen finger reminded me that this was Denali, the far North after all. Looking out over the entire expanse of Alaska from the highest point on the continent was a feeling that will stay with us forever.
After the summit photo and celebrations, we quickly packed up and marched down. The summit was only the halfway point. Crossing the Football Field and by the Archdeacon’s Tower, my rope team quickly made our way to the Denali Pass. This was when two of our guides vomited. They were humans after all. The toll of the trip started to wear on them. Luckily, things remained calm from here on out. Denali was generous and gifted us a beautiful day all the way till camp.
Day 17 (June 12): Packing Down to 14k Camp
Not surprisingly, we had a great night of fulfilling sleep at High Camp following our summit effort. Other than some clouds and a bit more wind, weather surprisingly held out. We were not in a rush anymore. We slowly sorted out all the kits, ate all the food so we didn’t have to carry it down on our backs.
We packed up our High Camp tents in freezing morning winds, loaded our heavy backpacks to their absolute limit, and began the long, cautious descent back down the sharp, exposed 16k Ridge. Descending the fixed lines on the steep Headwall with big packs pushing us forward required absolute concentration on every single foot placement, arm-wrap, and carabiner clip. By the time we reached the safety of 14k Camp, our knees were throbbing, but breathing the denser air at lower elevation felt like an incredible luxury.
Day 18 (June 13): Exit: The Long March Out to The Airstrip
Denali is generally capped with a long continuous march towards the airstrip. We have chosen to start the march at night in hopes of catching the flight early the next morning.
We spent the morning sorting and drying our gear. I dragged my sled around to get rid of any food that my team didn’t want to carry down. We managed to save 7 gallons of fuel, which speaks to how well our expedition went.
After eating the rest of our wet food, we started to pack the remainder of the kits and say goodbye to the 14k camp. Starting around 9pm, we started the long descent. The descent from 14k all the way down through 11k Camp, past Windy Corner, and across the lower glacier was a relentless, slow downward marathon. Gravity now pulled our heavy sleds down behind and beside us. Squirrel Hill is just as risky as it was on the way up, so we could not let our guard down.
I was positioned in the middle of my rope team. On the way down, this was probably the worst position to be. I needed to keep tension and belay the sled in front of me; at the same time, I needed to keep two heavy sleds behind me stable. On the uphill, I needed to pull two sleds up. When sidehilling, I had two sleds wanting to swing and pull me down. I was constantly trying to sense the sled and try to flex my core maximally to exert the right force on the sleds; definitely not the best position to be.
We pushed through the night, watching the glacier glow in soft pink twilight as we made our final way back toward Kahiltna Basecamp and the airstrip. The walk was truly beautiful. If it wasn’t for the long march and the constant shouting of my guide(who was suffering mentally and physically herself), I would have loved to stop for some more photos. I was also painfully re-acquainted with why I have such an intense love-hate relationship with my Millet double boots. Their wider toe-box is an absolute lifesaver on sub-zero summit days when fitting two pairs of heavy wool socks is mandatory to prevent frostbite, but on long, flat glacier pushes with single ski socks, my toes slid forward endlessly with every single stride! I tried a variety of lace-tying methods that various guides have recommended over the years. They did work to a certain extent. Though it did not completely stop my toe from stabbing forward in such a wide part of boots. RIP to my toenails!
Day 19 (June 14): 38 Hours Awake & Return to Talkeetna
We dragged our exhausted, bruised bodies into the glacier airstrip at 5:30 AM after pulling an all-night march across the lower glacier. The journey is almost at an end.
(A small celebration)
Right at the airstrip, we unexpectedly bumped into ski friends Bastian and Nancy. We broke out portable speakers, shared remaining snacks, and launched into an impromptu, triumphant celebration right there on the snow runway. Despite a wildly bumpy flight back with Talkeetna Air Taxi (TAT) through severe mountain turbulence, we touched down safely on the green grass of Talkeetna around 9:00 AM. Fueled by pure adrenaline, relief, and joy, I miraculously managed to stay awake for nearly 38 hours straight to join the team for celebratory burgers, cold drinks, and storytelling before finally collapsing into a real bed!
(Improptu concert)
Learnings:
Here are some learnings that I took away from the trip that will hopefully be helpful to you.
- Really dial in your footwear. Denali is a very large mountain, so it will involve a lot of walking/skiing/snowboarding. Make sure they don’t hurt you at all.
- Bring lots of sunscreen; there is sun most of the day.
- Make sure your supplies are ready for the long haul, but be sure to weigh them. You will feel the weight after some days at altitude.
- How much food or fuel you will need depends on the weather. You will have lots of leftover food when the weather is nice. However, if the weather is bad, some people will even steal fuel and food. Thieves get sent off and banned from the mountain if caught.
- CMC is the mountain poop can you will need to carry and use. We had some climbers sneak in and use our CMCs. Considering that, it might be better to close and store your CMC close to your tent.
- It’s best to bring both a shovel and a spade to help you build out camps. The spade was great for icy patches, and the shovel was good for quickly removing snow. Make sure the spade and shovel are both sturdy enough, or you might suffer quite a bit.
- There are crevasses everywhere. And yes, they can be on your route. My guide fell into one where I just walked past 5 seconds ago. Rope up.
- West Buttress route isn’t technically difficult; however, you need to know how to carry things well. This means knowing your ropes and knots system well.
- Many of the guides on this mountain often didn’t have enough chances to acclimatize. Sometimes that will manifest into very impatient guides because they were also suffering physically. Temper your expectations here.
- Even if you sign up for guided trips, don’t expect someone to do your chores for you. The guides are there for guiding activities only. Sometimes guides will be requested to help NP Rangers conduct rescues, so don’t be too single-minded in pursuing the summit. Climber safety first.