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Monogamy
- 1. Climbing the North Face of Mount Dickey The Ruth Gorge, Denali National Park, Alaska Monogamy Written by Jason Elliott
- 3. The Ruth Gorge Denali National Park, Alaska The Ruth Gorge in Denali National Park is well-known by American mountaineers for its serious, technical alpine routes. But speci鍖c information on the climbs in the Ruth is strangely dif鍖cult to 鍖nd; apparently the handful of 鍖rst-ascent pioneers felt little should be said to the rest of the world about it. I dont blame them - when I saw how stunningly pristine this part of world is, I wanted to keep it a secret, too. The highest point in North America: Denali sunrise, view from the North Face of Mount Dickey 1
- 4. The Mooses Tooth On May 26th, 2001, I arrived in Talkeetna, Alaska with my climbing partners, Pedro Espina, Vik Gowda and Craig Carter (aka E.B.). We were committed to attempting the Mooses Tooth, a peak appreciated by serious alpinists since its inclusion in Steve Ropers book, Fifty Classics Climbs of North America. Although not particularly high (10,335), it is an especially aesthetic mountain for climbers with its steep vertical granite leading to a razor-edge ridges. There are no easy ascents on the Mooses Tooth; all the routes require technical pro鍖ciency and are also exposed to serious objective hazards. Pedro, Vik, E.B. and I would attempt the West Ridge route, which would require snow and ice climbing up to 60 degrees with multiple crevasse crossings and objective dangers from avalanches and falling cornices. The West Face of the Mooses Tooth View of the Ruth Gorge from plane. Mt. Dickey is in the center of the photo. 2
- 5. The Ruth Gorge: view to the north across crevasse 鍖elds Base Camp at Don Sheldon Amphitheater K2 Aviation Cessna 185 3
- 6. The Don Sheldon Amphitheater We organized our gear and loaded up into a pair of tiny Cessna 185s operated by K2 Aviation for the 45 minute 鍖ight to the Don Sheldon amphitheater on the Ruth Glacier. Once we landed on the glacier, we unloaded our gear and established our base camp on the ridge above the airstrip near the Sheldon Cabin. Once we sat down and took a look around, we began to comprehend how isolated we were. If anything were to go wrong, it would be long time before you could expect a rescue. The West Ridge route of the Mooses Tooth Mt. Dan Beard Moonrise over base camp4
- 7. The next day we ate a leisurely breakfast, double-checked our gear and packed our sleds. Roping together in teams of two, we skied across the Ruth Glacier toward the base of the Mooses Tooth. Traversing the glacier was more complicated than I had expected; I was surprised to have to negotiate so many crevasses for a such a large, 鍖at glacier but I later learned that the glacier moves an average of three feet per day. By mid-afternoon we were noticing it was unseasonably warm. The roar of avalanches began to echo across the gorge. By the time we set up camp in an open area below the 鍖rst bergshrund it had started to snow. The combination of the warm day and heavy snow at night worried me as the frightening sounds of avalanches continued through the night. Crossing the Ruth Glacier E.B. pulling sled towards the Mooses Tooth Pedro and Vik traversing glacier 5
- 8. The next morning it was still snowing. We decided to begin climbing the initial slopes, which were not very steep and unlikely to slide. I roped up with E.B. and began leading. We opted to simulclimb to move faster, but the fresh snow slowed our progress. Pedro and Vik roped together and climbed parallel to us. As we approached the couloir leading to the summit, the slope began to steepen and we began to be hit with blasts of spindrift. It was still snowing. I dug a quick test pit and decided I didnt like the results: there were ten inches of fresh, heavy snow over a weaker layer that had been melting in the warm air the day before. Entering the couloir in those conditions would have been foolish. It was clear that the risk of avalanche or being hit by a collapsed cornice from above was too great. Time to turn around. Pedro was, at 鍖rst, not in agreement. He wanted to press upward but when he saw me and E.B. begin to climb back down he reluctantly retreated as well. We decided to stay one more night below the Mooses Tooth as it was getting late and crossing the glacier at night didnt seem like a great idea. Falling into a crevasse is a scary enough thought in the daytime. The next morning it had stopped snowing but it had become very warm again and the glacier was covered by advection fog. By the time we climbed down to our skis at the glacier, visibility was down to about 10 feet and it felt like we were walking through a cotton ball. I roped up with E.B., tied about 30 feet apart with the sled between us. I could not see E.B. through the fog. Fortunately I had set wands and programmed waypoints at changes of direction into my GPS on the way to the Mooses Tooth; without the GPS pointing me from wand to wand, we would not have been able to navigate the crevasse 鍖elds safely in those conditions. At one point a completely disoriented sparrow found us and began riding our sled. It remained on the sled for at least 30 minutes, happy to have any navigational reference, until a patch of blue sky appeared through a break in the fog and it made a quick escape. By the time I began pulling the sled up the Sheldon amphitheater slope to base camp I was sweating profusely from the heat. I was wearing nothing but underwear and my double boots when I arrived in camp. We took the next day to rest and discuss our options. With the weather forecast predicting well- above average temperatures, we decided to look for north-facing options that would be less affected by the heat. We turned our heads and looked south at the obvious north face of Mt. Dickey's northwest ridge just a mile from camp. The obvious route would have been to climb the west face of the ridge, but we had seen small avalanches sweep down those slopes in the afternoons. The north face on the other hand looked steep enough to preclude a large avalanche and didnt have any visible cornice danger. After studying the route together, we decided a midnight start would be wise so we could try to be back down at camp before mid- afternoon when most of the avalanche activity started. It looked like we could climb the intersection of the north and west faces and 鍖nd a couloir to lead us to the northwest ridge. Once we reached the ridge, the map indicated that reaching the summit slope would be fairly straightforward, and the descent to the south to reach Pittock Pass for the return to camp would be easy as well. 6
- 9. Approach to Mooses Tooth camp Unknown climbers on glacier Base camp kitchen Monogamy route detail 7
- 10. My climbing equipment consisted of a 60 meter / 9mm rope, three pickets, a rack of stoppers, 10 miscellaneous pitons and a dozen slings. I carried two quarts of water and a few energy gel packets. We left base camp just after midnight and crossed the bergshrund around 2:00AM. From here E.B and I roped up and I began leading, simulclimbing the 45 degree slope so we could move faster. I placed a picket every 50 meters until I had set all three; I would then move another 50 meters and set a hip belay with my ice tools as an anchor so I could retrieve the gear from E.B. After about 500 feet of climbing I was able to set pitons and stoppers in rock, giving me more protection options so we could spend more time moving and less time stopping to belay and retrieve gear. After about six hours of climbing mostly snow, the route became steeper and we needed to make a decision about which couloir to follow to the northwest ridge. The four of us stopped together and began analyzing two options. The right couloir seemed to be heading in the right direction but it appeared to get steep and turn into mostly a rock climb over rotten rock. The left couloir looked like good, protectable climbing up 鍖rm n辿v辿 but appeared to be heading too far left. We opted for the left couloir. Pedro took the lead up the couloir. Once Vik began to follow I started leading just behind him. After three more pitches I could hear Pedro shouting down to us: Vik! do you have a shovel in your pack? I was instantly worried by his question. Why would he need a shovel up there? Uh... yeah! Why? Theres a huge cornice blocking the route! Im going to try to dig through! Pedro responded. On belay! Climbing Mount Dickey 8
- 11. The author preparing to lead 鍖rst pitch Pedro and Vik following Pedro and Vik above Pedro and Vik moving up couloir Vik following to belay View down couloir - the author is visible crossing slope to couloir entrance 9
- 12. E.B. following the author across lower slopes. Pedro is visible behind
- 13. Vik began climbing up to Pedro at the cornice. After trying to 鍖nd as much shelter as I could in the narrow gully, I drove home two good pitons and belayed E.B. up to my position. There was no point moving up until I knew what was going on. If Pedro collapsed the cornice we were all going to be in serious trouble. Above I could hear him cursing in Spanish as he carefully dug a tunnel through the cornice. After moving for more than eight hours and now stopping for a few minutes I was getting cold. It took thirty minutes for Pedro to create a 7-foot long tunnel just wide enough to crawl through before he broke through the windward side of the cornice. He could see the west face of the Mooses Tooth across the Ruth Gorge - and nothing but a 3,000 foot drop below. There was nowhere to go. It was 10:30AM and we had climbed nearly 2,000 feet to a dead end. Pedros tunnel - the Mooses Tooth visible beyond
- 14. Pedro crawled out of the tunnel shouted down to us, "Boys, I have bad news and worse news. The bad news is that there is nothing but air on the other side of the ridge. The worse news is that we have to down climb this f**king mountain by the way we came up. The hole from the tunnel is visible near top of cornice It is at least 3,000 feet from that cornice to the Ruth Glacier 12
- 15. The couloir was steep enough that rappelling was the safest option. By safest that meant trusting our lives to one or two pieces of protection placed in rotten rock, but the dif鍖culty of down climbing 50-60 degree snow meant that we would have to move very slowly to prevent a fall, or set up belays. Too slow. We took inventory of our anchor options and set up a strategy. Because I was the heaviest climber, I would have the privilege of being the 鍖rst to rappel from each anchor. If it held my weight, it would hold everyone else. If the anchor failed and I fell to my death, they would know to build a better anchor. As a climbing guide, I actually preferred it this way. Id rather trust my decade of experience building hundreds of climbing anchors at this point. We tied our ropes together to double our rappel length, I took Pedros stoppers and pitons and began gingerly easing my weight into the anchor. The rock was of questionable quality and my con鍖dence wasnt as high as I would have like. A textbook anchor is much use if the rock disintegrates. I took a deep breath, tried to control my fear, and down the rope I went to set up the next anchor. On the third rappel, I had reached a good point to set up another anchor. I drove in a piton, set a stopper and yelled up that I was off rappel. Above, Pedro was about ease his weight onto the rope when he dislodged a rock. One rock became many. Rock! Rock! Rock! he screamed. I had nowhere to go, all I could do was push my face into the snow and try to hide under my helmet, hoping the rock would bounce over me. Spindrift rushed over and rocks began pelting me and the sound of stone striking the plastic of my helmet echoed in my ears. I felt a sharp pain in my upper right arm but I didnt dare look up until the noise stopped. I slowly turned my head and saw the huge tear in my Gore-Tex suit. I was suddenly thinking I didnt want to be there anymore. It was time to stop scaring the shit out of myself, stop tempting fate on the sides of remote mountains thousands of miles from home. Mostly, I didnt want to have a broken arm when we still had hundreds of feet to descend. "Elliott! Elliott! Are you OK?" Pedro shouted. I didnt answer right away because I wasnt sure. Part of me was waiting for a response from my arm. Part of me was thinking about wanting to go home to Virginia. I wiggled my 鍖ngers and slowly realized I had escaped serious injury. I was sore and would later display a huge bruise. I was lucky. "Im OK. I acknowledged, the anxiety in my voice evident. Im OK... can you please be more f**king careful up there?" By 2:30PM we had reached the lower snow slopes. The sun was warm and bright and we knew that we were at greatest risk of being hit by an avalanche at this point. Below, base camp looked so close, and yet it was still hours away. We were tired, and we needed to continually remind each other to double-check everything. E.B. dropped one of his ice tools, which would have been a serious mistake higher up, and Pedro stopped Vik from starting his rappel after having threaded only one of the ropes through his belay device. 13
- 16. Looking down the Monogamy couloirE.B. making the tenth rappel. The author is visible below. 14
- 17. View of the Don Sheldon Amphitheater from Monogamy. Our tents are visible just to the left of the rock outcropping. Plane and airstrip are on the right.
- 18. Slow down everybody, counseled Pedro. Lets not have come all this way just to die in a stupid rappelling accident. By 6:30PM we had crossed over the bergschrund and were safe. After eighteen hours of intense climbing I had never bothered to drink any of the water or eat any of the gel packs I carried. We saw no evidence that our route had been climbed before. Inspired by our mutual relationship problems we had shared with each other regarding our respective wives, soon-to-be wives, and soon-to-be ex-wives, I suggested we name the route Monogamy. There was no argument. We all felt humbled, and although no one said it openly, I think we all felt a little sel鍖sh. It was time to go home and hug our loved ones. 16
- 19. Looking up to couloir entrance Another rappel 17
- 20. Final rappel to bergshrund
- 21. The next day, we radioed K2 Aviation for an early pickup and we packed our gear. We had originally planned to stay longer but the conditions were bad and getting worse. A moose burger and a few beers back in Talkeetna sounded like a much better idea. A few hours later a DeHaviland Beaver had arrived on the glacier and we loaded our equipment before taking one long, last look at Mt. Dickey before boarding the plane. As we gathered speed down the glacier airstrip for takeoff, I noticed the pilot kept his door open until we were well above the ground. I asked him, Why did you keep your door open? His response: Because you guys stink! The author back at base camp, tired but safe 19
- 22. The author whining about his boo-boo Back in Talkeetna for cold beer and moose burgers Talkeetna, AK: A cute little drinking town with a climbing problem 20
- 24. Monogamy - an account of climbing the North Face of Mount Dickey in Denali National Park, Alaska. June, 2001 Written by Jason Elliott Photographs by Jason Elliott and Pedro Espiina