When I first came to Palmer in 2007, I was taught to “always climb things that inspire you, regardless of their grade or requirements.” And I saw Matanuska Peak for the first time. It inspired me then, and now, so today I climbed it with two stellar local companions. 6,000′ vertical each way and 10 miles later, I’ll say I’ve earned my cheesy corn grits tonight. I’ll try to get a good photo of the overall peak and area tomorrow, I forgot to take one today…

Eluna- super awesome dog, and me, on the summit.

Not bad for a rainy day...

Coming down the cirque.

Stellar teammates. Thanks you two!

After getting worked on the traverse, we all agreed July 5 was prime for a rest day. It was tough being at 17,000′ with good weather and not going for it, but I had a stiff headache and didn’t feel acclimatized yet so I knew it was well timed. July 6 I woke up feeling better and our team considered going back up Denali pass for the summit but rooster tails of snow peeling off the ridge indicated it would be a rough day to go. I still wasn’t feeling 100%, and was grateful for another rest day.
July 7 was go time. The weather was solid and we all felt strong. Given that Chris, Josh, Drew, and I had already been to the south summit (20,320′), our team split up- Tom and Bob going south for their first true summit, and rest of us going north to summit the rarely accomplished north peak (19,470′). The north peak is slightly more technical and remote, and far less popular. Needless to say while Tom and Bob shared the summit with 35 other guides and climbers, we were alone in a different universe 2.5 miles away on the north summit. Once we reached Denali pass we found ourself in an unceasing ~15 mph wind that made the next 7 hours unfortunately cold and miserable. It was closer to the edge of comfort than we would have preferred, but manageable. We summited around 700pm, took a few quick photos and headed for home. An awesome culmination of awesome experiences with 3 incredible men. It was truly an honor to be a part of. I’m pleased to congratulate Tom and Bob on a successful trip to the south summit as well. Back in camp around 11pm, there was no doubt it had been a solid day. Stellar.

The Harper glacier could be considered an extension of the Muldrow, but with a distinctly different flavor. After the Icefall we skirted on Karstens ridge, the Harper exists solely above 15,000′ and is one of the coldest, most windswept, and barren places in commonly travelled mountaineering. Stories of demolished tents and bitter temps humbled our expectations and set our senses on edge for this portion of the route.
After rescuing the Russian guys, the weather closed in and we declared a rest day. July 3 we woke up ready to roll but found our tracks from June 30 covered by over 3 feet of fresh snow. The trail breaking was absurd and visibility was almost nil. We could feel the trail undef the snowpack, but could see it. As the third guy on the first rope if I stepped incorrectly, I was buried in bottomless powder up to my chin. We took turns breaking trail, the visibility lifted and slowly we worked our way onto the upper Harper. Late in the day I broke trail again through the Icefall. I probed our old track and kept an eye on our wands but still managed to take a cravasse fall over my head. This time the crack was dry and I was able to get myself out quickly, but I was happy to have solid rope mates behind me. Despite a full days effort we didn’t make it back to the cache we had put at 16,800′. We camped cold and tired in the seracs at 16,200′.
July 4 was a day to remember. We packed camp quickly, picked up our cache, and pushed up to Denali pass dragging sleds. The park service needed our team to staff the 17,000′ camp on the West Buttress, so we completed out traverse and headed down Denali pass carrying over 100lbs each between packs and sleds. Before descending the pass we enjoyed meeting the NOLS team coming down from their successful summit push- way to represent guys. It was good times but descending the pass with sleds was maddening, and we got worked. With skis and wands on my sled it did nothing but barrel roll down the pass, attempting to pull me off with each turn. Everyone else’s sleds seemed to slide fine. The profanity emanating from my mouth was not one of my finer moments, and hitting the 17 camp never felt so good. We had completed the traverse and were in spectacular position for the summit.

Having got all our gear to Browne Tower we were excited to be in such an awesome position on the route with plenty of food and fuel for a potential summit push from the upper Harper glacier. Our campsite was less than ideal, having carved it out of a 35 degree avy slope, but it worked, and June 30 we moved a cache of gear up to 16,900′. Above Browne tower lies the Harper glacier, a cold, windy place with a reputation for destroying gear, morale, and people, and being the second to last major obstacle of the trip. Moving a cache allowed us to acclimate to the high elevation, build some walls for a future camp, and get a feel for this tough, wild place.
When we got back to camp, the Russian duo we had been concerned about stopped by and asked us to look at one of them. Due to Park Service rules about patient care we knew that assisting this group might have a massive impact on our trip. The team had ascended the route too quickly, and one member showed serious symptoms of both high altitude pulmonary and cereberal edema- potentially life threatening conditions. The morning of July 1 we officially took the patient under our care- his oxygen saturation was in the mid-30s and it was obvious his partner was unable to care for him. We spent the day outlining various options for rescue and waiting for his response to drugs- while a rest day, it wasn’t very restful. It was snowing heavily with low visibility, heavily loading the avalanche terrain on the ridge below us. The Muldrow is a remote route without many good rescue options and significant terrain hazards- a crappy route to rescue someone off of. Late that night rangers in Talkeetna decided that a helicopter evacuation was the best option but that required far better weather. The snow finally stopped and we used the window to scout and prepare landing zone for the helicopter. The morning of July 2 we had a short window of clear wether, got the helicopter in, got the patients out, and had a special delivery of cinnamon rolls from the local bakery.
The weather closed again immediately after the rescue and continued to dump snow. We declared another rest day and started to wonder how hard getting to our cache would be with almost 3 feet of fresh snow covering our tracks onto the Harper.