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Dom was true to his word, he woke us at 12:30 am. There was warm water for coffee, and to refill our water bottles. Breakfast was a breakfast bar. The cache of stuff we left at Camp 2 was retrieved and divided. Everyone was zombie-like as we tried to remember what we had cache’d, and whose snowshoes were whose!The bags were getting heavier with each camp we passed. Crampons were exchanged for snow shoes, and we were walking by 1:30 am.

The early start was again to cross this crevassed section when the snow was frozen, or as cold as possible. Six miles and over 3,000 feet of downward elevation to go. It was still snowing.

It was a slog. After getting through the prayers, I needed some distraction. My quads were sore. The chest strap on my bag was annoying me, as it constantly detached – really bad design! For only the second time on the trip, I tuned into some podcasts. Football Weekly and Barry Glendenning, The Rest is Politics and Alistair Campbell and Rory Stewart.

We stopped at Camp 1 to pick up some more cached gear. Bags got heavier again. We criss-cross crossed the glacier to avoid known crevasses. Dominic had been here many times and he saw or sensed where the dangers lay. The snow turned to rain, and the underfoot snow was soft and slushy. The slushy snow was sticky for the sleds. Just keep going, it can’t be much further. At the end of the trail, you have to go about 500 feet uphill, on what’s known as Heartbreak hill. So hard! I remembered going in the opposite direction as we set off 19 days ago. The downhill section then seemed nowhere as steep as it was now going up. Back then I had no idea of what the adventure, the highs and lows the intervening 19 days would hold. I recalled how we passed teams, and they too seemed zombie like, and I had no idea why. How could they be so grumpy and disengaged after completing their adventure? Now I knew!! Just get me to the airstrip.

The rain had stopped, but the cloud was low. Please God, make the clouds go away, we need to get a plane to land to collect us, I cannot spend another night on this mountain, another night in a tent.

As we approached the “runway” we heard an engine. A plane was landing to connect another group, Dallas’ group, who were there ahead of us. Thank you God! We were at basecamp )and the airstrip) at 9:30 am. We had descended over 10,000 feet in 19 hours, 2 of which were sleep. I was done, wiped out, looking forward to a bed!

At 9 am we heard another engine, and we saw the red K2 De Haviland bank steeply to the left and land, followed shortly by another. We were getting off the mountain. We were going home!

We were woken at about 8:30 am. This was slightly later than planned, because of the cold. Despite being super tired, I was woken by the cold during the night, and had to add another layer. It wasn’t Antarctica cold, but it was cold, definitely sub-zero. Another reminder that Dominic was correct in not moving here sooner. Being stuck here with 30-40mph winds, and the resultant cold temps, would not be fun.

We had breakfast, Quaker Oats again (ugh!), in our tents, and got packed to go. Lightest backpacks of the trip, just every layer we weren’t wearing, 2 litres of water, and snacks. We all had the long John’s on, extra socks, and I had my heated boots. I was excited to see how these would work.

There were 2 teams attempting to summit. Because of the bad weather of the previous week, there was no trail, just virgin snow. Dominic, and the leader of the other team, Dallas, who coincidentally was a friend of Dominic, agreed a plan on how the teams would work in tandem. They would take turns of breaking snow, and would evaluate the risk as they proceeded. In addition to assessing the avalanche risk, they would have to find the buried pickets, essential to using running belays at the more exposed sections of the route. We gained a few hundred feet, to just below Denali Pass, when Dominic and Dallas did their first avalanche test. As my rope team was a bit behind, I had no idea of what was happening, other than we were stopped. After about 15 minutes, our rope leader said we were heading back. We would go no further today, or as it turned out, ever.

When we got back to camp Dominic explained what had happened, and our plan. He, and Dallas, had dug out a section of snow, and with his hand pushed this cut-away section of the snow pack, which moved very easily. He described it as being like a pack of snow sitting on marbles, and the cross section of the snow showed many discernible layers. It meant the avalanche risk was high, and that the weather conditions were very unlikely to alter this in the coming day(s). Our trip, our hope of submitting was over. We would break camp and head back to Camp 3 at 14,000ft.

It was a crushing blow. The instant reaction is f@@k! The 10 days sitting at a camp 3 waiting was for nothing. That damned (I can think of better f words) 20” of snow screwed us. The months of training, the hours and days away from family, those endless hikes on Fort Ben and Brown County, were pointless. The sadness, the disappointment, and the frustration, of the team was palpable. For Mikayla this was the 2nd time. 2 years ago she spent 7 days at Camp 3 before turning around. Etienne asked was there another route, surely there was another option! For me, I was very disappointed. I had failed to summit Rainier last year, so I had experienced something similar previously, but not to the same extent. I had not invested this effort, this amount of time, this level of training, on any previous trip. I had never prepared as hard. However, I promised Fionnuala I would be safe, and I would return. I did not want my name added to the Denali memorial in Talkeetna. I knew I would have summitted that day. Physically and mentally, I was ready and I would have got me to the top. I would have “won”. I was beaten by the weather, not by the mountain, and not by myself. Would I try again, probably not. Some were more upset. Etienne described the upcoming walk down as the “walk of shame”. I disagreed strongly, it was a walk of disappointment, but there was no shame. We had done everything we could, and we would have summitted. No doubt.

We gathered for photos, at the “Diving Board”, an exposed piece of rock near our camp. The views were indescribable. Directly below us, 3,200 feet straight down was Camp 3. Foraker was glowing, as usual. Hunter was 3000 ft below us, the exposure of the West Buttress was scarily apparent, and the route to the top was visible, but unattainable. People broke out their summit treats. Ben shared his Twinkies, Andrew waved his Texas flag, I kept my 5 pebbles in my pocket. 5 pebbles I intended to lay at the summit – 5 being significant as it represented Fionnuala, Sophie, Eoin, Kevin and me, and 5 being my number of children, Paul, Rory, Sophie, Eoin and Kevin. Etienne ate his brownies. We took group, individual, and friend photos. As a group we had demonstrated resilience, and teamwork.

It was time to head for home. First however, we had cross the West Buttress, this time going down. I admit I was wary, more than that, a bit scared. Going down is always a challenge, and I had a promise to keep. Get home safely. A Hail Mary, and off we went.

It was stunning. Yes it was exposed, but the anxiety and the shortness of breath experienced on the ascent, were gone. Concentration, focus, thoughts of getting back to family, and prayers. Descending the scramble and fixed rope sections were the worst. Whilst you use the ascender on the way up, which physically attaches you to the fixed lines, on the descent you wrap the rope around your arm.

Totally uncomfortable! We made great time, and were back at the top of the longer section of fixed lines in no time. At that point we agreed – it was democratic and unanimous – that we would go straight to Camp 2, at 11,000 feet, bypassing Camp 3. We scampered down the fixed lines and the remaining hill to Camp 3, dug up our cache, collected Sophia and Tait, loaded our sleds, and headed for Camp 2. Yes, the sleds were back, and we divided our weight between the backpack and the sled.

We had 2 dodgy sections ahead, Windy corner, and Squirrel hill. We now walked with a heavy sled between us. As the last man on the rope team I had no sled behind me. My role was to prevent the sled on Adjoa, ahead of me, from moving to the left or right, that could cause her to be pulled off the track, and off the mountain. I achieve this by keeping a very tight line, effectively trying to pull her back towards me. The trail and conditions were significantly different than the last time we descended back to Camp 2. The snow was deep, and relatively untrodden. At Windy corner there is steep exposure on the left, and the sleds slide strongly in that direction. On the right there is the risk of rockfall, so we once again had to wear helmets on this section. I always wonder what good my helmet would be if I was hit by a significant rock!!!!

We negotiated Windy corner pretty easily, but Squirrel Hill was a real challenge. The snow accumulation was significant, and the snow gave way easily underfoot, easily causing a stumble. the exposure here is to the right, with a huge drop to the Peters glacier. In addition, we were hit by a blizzard. The deep snow meant we were intermittently potholing on some sections, making maintaining balance and staying upright tough, and the sleds pulling hard to the right. However we got through it, and took a break at the top of Motorcycle hill. One more steep section and we would be at 11,000 feet. At this stage my quads were screaming, but we got there. It was probably 9pm. We had to put up the tents, and had another Mountain House dinner, this time Chicken Tikka Massala. Not bad. At about 10:30pm Dom said we would leave Camp by 1:30am, so get some rest. I was looking at 2 hours sleep.

At last! 10 days in Camp 3 is more than enough. We were up at 7:30, had a simple breakfast of Quakers Oats (yuk! a mix of blueberry and apple/cinnamon), packed our backpacks, took down all the tents and buried them along with all the unwanted gear and snacks. Minimizing weight for the remainder of the journey was crucial. We didn’t need to carry the tents, as RMI has tents and some gear cached at Camp 4. So the bags were reasonable, and we were eager.

There was quite the crowd ready to move by 10am. Big question of who would go first. Whoever went first had the unenviable task of breaking snow and establishing a trail. No one had gone up since the 20+” of snow. Unusually Dom held back. The Russian team, the Lithuanians, the other RMI team got to the hill before us. Not all were heading all the way to Camp 4 at 17,200 feet, but to cache above the fixed lines. The question in the back of everyone’s mind was how far would we get. The stability of the snow was still questionable, and the accessibility of the fixed ropes across the ridge. The positive factor was the AMS team had crossed the ridge to get down.

Unfortunately being so far back resulted in delays all the way to the top of the fixed lines. We waited at the base of the slope, as the teams ahead of us were quite slow tackling the initial incline. For me, and as I found out from all of the colleagues, this 2nd climb up was more challenging than our first 6 or 7 days ago – so long I can’t actually remember!, The impact of sitting around in Camp 3 was having an effect. However, the body warmed up, and the slow pace got me back in the groove. We went further before our first break, which made the 1st stretch quite testing. Dom did this for 2 reasons, we wanted to try and get ahead of some of the people ahead of us, as the pace was slow, and he was testing us. He wanted to push us to see if we were upto this stage, and the final stage to the summit. 2 of the group, Sophia and Tait from NYC, quit at the break. They fell quite far back on this first stage. Ben brought them back to Camp 3, where they will remain until our return. They will camp with the other RMI team, who are only heading up to cache some gear, and will return to Camp 3 today. This clearly was a tough call, but the right one. It was clear over the trip, and especially during our first trip up to cache, that they were struggling. It was additionally rough on them, as they also had to turn around last year.

We made reasonable time to the bottom of the fixed lines, slower than our previous trip, but were held up for over 30 mins before getting onto the fixed lines. It made me think, in a very simple way, of the delays on Mt Everest at the Hillary step. We just sat and waited for the slow line ahead, to climb over the crevasse, and start up the fixed lines. You’re stuck, you get impatient, you can’t go on, as you watch people ahead struggle or move slowly, or perceive to move slowly. Fortunately, there was no wind, as it would have been quite cold if there had been one. I reckon it was about 10F.

Eventually we got on the fixed lines. Adjua, who was now on my rope team ahead of Andrew, was extremely nervous as we worked our way up the blue ice section. The blue ice (it really is blue) is super hard and slippery. The crampons didn’t grip the ice like they do the snow, so maintaining a foot hold, and not slipping was challenging. So kicking really hard, repeating as often as is necessary to get a grip, to get a couple of spikes into the ice is crucial. The angle of the slope at this section is about 60 degrees, so the nervousness is understandable. However, contact is aided by the ascender, so a serious fall is very unlikely. The slope is not sufficiently steep to require the aid of the ice axe. The key tester is to have your feet securely anchored, especially at the points where you have to detach and re-attach the ascender when one fixed line ends, and the next begins.

At the top of the fixed lines, which is about 2,000 ft, and almost directly vertically above Camp 3, as you look back, we waited for Ben. Having returned Sophia and Tait, he turned around and followed us up. More like, he raced back up!!

The guides dug up our cache, and we loaded up to head to Camp 4, at 17,200 feet. We had no idea what was ahead. We were about to traverse the West Buttress. The first section was a steep scramble up to Washburn’s Thumb – named after the famed climber and photographer Brad Washburn who established the route after photographing Denali from his plane back in time. Washburn’a Thimb may have looked insignificant from way down in Camp 3, but not now! On this section, Ben, our guide and rope leader, slipped, but quickly self arrested! I discussed this with Andrew later in the day, and this stumble had a similar (but silent) affect on both of us. It definitely increased our anxiety, making breathing difficult. I remember thinking I can only half fill my lungs, I have a cramp in my lower chest! After the scramble, there was a short section of fixed lines. At this point there was only one group ahead of us, so the snow was not packed, adding another vector to the challenge. The route was a mix of snow and rock, and rock and crampons aren’t great. After the fixed lines we were on the ridge. The exposure on both sides was something. Having said that, it was incredible. Steeply down below our right side was Camp 3. For days we had looked up at this ridge, with no knowledge of what it was like. Thankfully the route was passable. It was also clear why doing this ridge in the wind was a no-go. We walked for a couple of more hours on this ridge, occasionally having to scramble over rocks, which is quite different whilst wearing crampons. This section, which gained us about 1000 feet, was physically tough. We reached Camp 4 at 7:00pm. This was later than expected, due to the time lost earlier in the day on the lower sections. Then it was the normal routine. Establish camp – shovel out a flat platform for the tents, erect the tents, assist with the Posh and the latrine, unpack the backpack, blow up your air mattress – which is no fun at 17,200 feet -. Given the significant drop in temp, it was time to bring all layers into the tent, and keep your boot liners, socks, all gloves, all layers, and water bottles in your sleeping bag. The guides boiled water, which takes a lot longer at 17,000 ft, and we had a Mountain House dehydrated dinner in our tents. My yellow curry with chicken was quite tasty. I was tired. So was Andrew, and as it turned out, so was everyone else. It had been a long day, tough climb, wildly exposed. Nonetheless, it was exciting to be here, it felt good, to be within a day’s climb of the summit.

Dom gave his end of day speech, saying we were going for the summit tomorrow. He put our chances at 50/50, with the risk being avalanches. The ground above us, and route to the top was virgin, untouched snow. The leader of the Russian team (he was American) said he had never seen so much snow on the route ahead.

So, exciting day ahead, but prayers needed to make it happen. Despite the excitement and anxiety, sleep came easy.

We did not move today. The view from Dominic, and the Park Rangers was the avalanche risk was too high. Spirits sunk at 7:30 a.m when Dominic came to the tents to share the news. Not unexpectedly, no snow had moved overnight. The obvious expletives were heard being mumbled along our line of tents. So we got up at 9:30, not that anyone had gone back to sleep, and chatted, with bowed heads, over a bowl of granola. Dominic said there’s still 1 more chance on Saturday. So we’re down to our last chance. Groundhog day. This is our 10th day at Camp 3, and our 6th weather day.

Some of us roped up with Ben, and walked to World’s End, for something to do. When we returned we had a group charcuterie board – salami, prosciutto, cheddar, aged Gouda, triscuits. I had a grape flavored Nuun, the nearest thing to red wine…..not remotely!

Word had it the AMS teams that went up to 17,000 6 days ago were going to descend. Thank God for Dominic, as the AMS call to go up was brutal.

It was a gorgeous day. 8F, but I could not sit out in it. I was being crisped!

This evening Dominic said we’re going to 17,000 (Camp 4) tomorrow. From there he’ll check the conditions beyond, but we’re definitely moving. There hasn’t being an avalanche on Motorcycle hill, which meant the snow had probably settled. Out of interest, or self survival, I asked Dominic what should we do in the event of an avalanche. We all wear our avalanche beacons, but they’re no help if we all get hit by the avalanche. The answer is hopefully we all don’t get hit, but if you are hit, then swim. Try and get to the surface. Good to know, but I’m not a noted swimmer!

The excitement tonight is palpable. As Andrew said “it feels like Christmas Eve around here”. We’ve all checked, and double-checked, our gear. I’m ready. However there is a genuine concern about fitness. We all know we were definitely in better shape 7 days ago.

However, it’s good news. We are moving up.

Before went to bed last night we shoveled snow from around the tent. The slow steady snowfall was accumulating. Seemingly a build up around the tent can result in suffocation, unlikely I’d say, but why take a chance. I’m not that bored….yet! During the night the guides got up and cleared all round the tents again. I woke/got up at about 9, and there was another 6” or more around the tent. It snowed all day. It was expected to stop at 2, at 4, and finally stopped at 6pm. I guess we had about 20” accumulation. We were in a complete whiteout for most of the day, the other tents around camp being barely visible. At this stage, it is getting boring. Today we could not leave the tents, so snooze, read, chat, snooze, read…….. Some people – thankfully not Andrew – , and other’s little idiosyncrasies, are becoming irritating, even annoying in some cases. However, it is only a few more days (one way or the other), so no need to upset the applecart.

Blue skies at 6pm was a cause for celebration. Perhaps we will move tomorrow. The arrival of the sun was followed by a huge avalanche down the Meisner glacier behind us. I stood and arched it wit Dominic from outside the mess tent, huge thunderclap sound, followed by a massive rush of snow. Then a massive cloud of snow dust covered the camp, even though we were a distance from the avalanche. Nature….its wild!

As we talked over dinner, Dominic said we need more avalanches to shift the fresh snow off our route to 17,000, so amazingly we are wishing for avalanches. Isn’t that wild!

Walking around camp after dinner, many teams are hoping to move tomorrow, as Saturday is expected to be a good day to attempt to summit. Ideally, some overnight (unlikely) or early morning avalanches, and then a team or two ahead of us to break the ground tomorrow. But like every day for the last 5, we’ll wait and see!

It snowed last night. Not a lot, just a little bit on the ground. It also wasn’t so cold. Maybe I got the air mattress the foam pad and the sleeping bag to be friends. I got a decent sleep, maybe the best so far. Sleep isn’t continuous, it has a series of breaks.

After breakfast – ugh, pretty bad, we’re getting to the bottom of the barrel, – grits, like eating sawdust in water -.

Dom asked who wanted to hike up the hill towards Camp 4. I was thrilled. I needed to assure myself that I still had the ability to walk uphill. I also needed a break from just walking up and down Camp.

Three of us took up the offer. The fresh snow made it different to the time we headed up to cache some stuff, whenever that was! We probably only went up 600ft, but we lost sight of camp pretty quickly after starting our ascent. It felt good to test the legs and the body, albeit a short test. The descent was scrunching in deep soft snow. It felt great.

After getting back, with still some energy to expend, I dug steps into the slope that had become the ramp to the loo. It was so slippery I feared my last step would be a slide into the CMC. I couldn’t let that be my demise, so I crafted steps into the ice. My good deed for the day, maybe the week or month!

As I retired to the tent about 1:30 pm, it started to snow. Steadily over the next few hours the splatter of snow against the tent soothed me to a snooze, and then I started my next book, The Blind Assassin for a bit. The snow accumulated, probably to the point that my good deed is rendered pointless.

What will this snow mean to our progress, or should I say to our lack of progress?

At dinner Dominic said there would be no move tomorrow. More snow coming, but there would be a break perhaps on Friday, with a better break possibly on Sunday. The possibility of a break in the weather lifted everyone’s spirits. There are only a few groups remaining here. As the eeek progressed a few more turned back. The Russians are still here. The other RMI group too. They are in a better situation than us, as they have longer left on their permit.

In the meantime we continue to wait, and hope those breaks in the weather come to pass. Friday would be just ideal!

It’s Tuesday. I thought it was Monday. The day doesn’t matter here. All that matters is the weather, not the weather here at 14,000 ft, but the weather at 17,000 ft and above.

The teams that moved up to 17,000 2 days ago are still there. I believe it’s a miserable place to be stuck. Hopefully I’ll see soon.

Last night was cold, about 10f. I made 2 mistakes. Firstly I did not put my socks on, but slept in my down booties. My feet got cold during the night. My second mistake is I didn’t inflate my airbed. I thought it was inflated enough. As the temp dropped overnight, the air mattress ‘deflated’ some more, which meant my sleeping bag got closer to the freezing ground, and I got cold. I guess I made a 3rd mistake in not doing something about it immediately I felt it. I eventually addressed both issues. It’s like when I wake and I need to go pee, you try and ignore the urge, say it’s okay, only then have to do something 30 minutes later, having just tossed and turned in the meantime.

So bedtime from now on means socks on and inflate the mattress! On all my previous climbs this has been standard, but the weather is so mixed here – some nights are much warmer, and I might even take a layer off. Once we move up it will be significantly colder.

Whilst it is boring here, there is no doubt this is the place to wait, and as usual, Dominic’s strategy was correct. Our camp here is luxurious compared to what we will build at 17,000. We have a mess tent in which we all can gather, and we have a ‘decent’ loo. I can’t believe I said that, as it is quite primitive – actually worse than that, or maybe I’ve just crapped in a bucket for too long – , but it is sheltered and private. I recall on Vinson the blue bags behind the rock, and carrying your ‘prize’ like Borat! That was seriously primitive!

Today we walked to the “End of the World”, with precipitous views to the Kahiltna glacier, thousands of feet below. It was a nice day, blue skies, so clothing was alternating between a base layer and a base layer and a fleece. We had a view of Camp 1, and the earlier part of our trail. Some of the team scrambled out to the edge of the rock, but I stayed sensible. I promised Fionnuala I wouldn’t do anything stupid!

We then prep’d the ground for the arriving RMI team. We dug out a platform for their tents. This is a huge help to them, as I recall how exhausting prep’ing was when we arrived here last week. 6 days ago – holy cow! Shoveling snow and stamping ground is no fun! When they arrived, they were mega pleased.

Tonight we heard the forecast, no change in the weather, means no move tomorrow. Dominic continues to contact his 3 friends, who independently send him forecasts. Then he meets daily with the Park Rangers stationed here. He is very thorough, and will await the optimal window. He is very proud of his record of never having anyone get frostbite on Denali.

We have a time limit though. Two factors will determine this. Firstly, our permit expires on Monday – that’s 6 days. Secondly, is our food supply. Carrying all that food here has been a pain, and there was a huge urge to cache some down lower. Whilst I did cache some, I brought a lot. Etienne says he has 2 days worth left. He also ran out of toilet paper. (Luckily descending teams drop by offering up their leftovers or excesses, so they can avoid carrying them back down. Etienne managed to address his toilet paper conundrum in this way).

Some groups have made the decision to turn back. The Lithuanian group have descended to 11,000 ft and will wait there. This doesn’t make much sense, as there is better acclimitization here, but as I said earlier, each team has a different strategy.

So still sitting and waiting….

I awoke to 6-8” of snow. The expected blizzard did occur. I feel for the teams that moved to 17,000ft. I didn’t hear the blizzard. When I awoke I didn’t think I had slept that well, but seemingly I was very asleep around 1:30 when the winds hit!

After breakfast – bagels and smoked salmon (that’s the last of both), – we dug out the tents, and created some new paths around camp. Visibility was about 50ft. It was a white-grey vista, with other groups appearing as shadows or silhouettes. Camp 3 is pretty quiet, not many people here . One largish group – the Russians -, and a few smaller teams, some as little as 2 people.

After a few walks up and down Main Street, we got a tutorial on knots, and then went outside and practiced the running belay. Seemingly above 17,000 at narrow parts of the ridge line, we will attach to installed fixed ropes (not fixed lines, which are for the steeper slopes) using a loop attached to our harnesses, as an additional safety measure. The practice is to detach/attach quickly using bulky gloves or mitts, as we move from one section of rope to the next. “Speed” is important to keep the team moving, as the temps above 17,000 will be quite frigid.

The rest of the day is our own. Too much rest is not good, psychologically or physically. Psychologically, we know today could have been our summit day, and now we don’t know when, or if, we will summit. The uncertainty is a killer. If we don’t summit, we will have wished we had turned for home sooner and not spent days waiting for a weather window. Sitting around and waiting makes one think about home. It’s tough being away, but it is by choice, and one always hopes we will meet the optimistic timeline. However it’s tougher for the folks back home. Of course they want us to succeed, but..

You cannot allow these thoughts to occupy your head for too long. To succeed, especially to stay safe, you must live in this world. This world is eating as well, and as much, as possible, hydrating, and trying to stay fit. These aspects are the physical challenge of being stranded. With each passing day, I feel I’m losing my physical edge. That hike to 17,000 is steep, it’s tough, it’s now covered in fresh snow which is a lot more challenging than a well travelled trail. How will I feel when I eventually get to go up it again? Hence the walks up and down Main Street, but it’s not enough. I really hope Dom makes us go up that hill – no matter the pain – tomorrow. This pre – occupation with fitness, thinking of people back home, are the consequences of waiting. When the team is moving and progressing, one’s mind is fully occupied by the task in hand, by the physical challenge, by the focus on staying safe.

We are likely to be joined by the other RMI team tomorrow. They are stuck as 11,000, but if the weather is good they will move up tomorrow, and wait with us for a window to get to the summit.

The weather forecast continues to be bad, as the wind up high getting to 40 mph, and night time temps sinking well below 0F. We look up at the West buttress and can see the snow blowing off the ridge, and the summit beyond. We just have to continue to wait and see, stay fit, and stay sane.

It’s Sunday. No mass today, so I will have to double down on the prayers.

We are staying at 14 camp. Weather outlook is not good. We didn’t get up until 9:30, and had a slow breakfast. Based on conversations yesterday, and last night, this was not a surprise. When you don’t get a wake up call at 6:30-7:30, you know we’re not moving. During breakfast we had a helicopter arrive to bring supplies to the rangers. Very exciting – at least we know we can be rescued!After that a couple of laps on Main Street to keep the muscles moving. Andrew and I then set about doing something with our tent. We have been sleeping in a convex position, seriously, with our sternums being our highest point. So we literally disconnected the tent from pegs holding it down and moved it out of the way. When we moved the tent, we had a mini mountain range beneath us. A bit of hacking with the ice axes, a bit of shoveling, a bit of stomping, and we’re optimistic. It may not be Sleep Number or Tempaduric, but it is certainly flatter.

Living in a tent means you have to be organized. There a lot of stuff in the tent, so you need a system – putting your stuff in the same place, so you can put your hand on it easily. Thankfully there’s only the two of us, which means more space and more pockets.

I have my hat, my beanie, my gloves, my muff, my harness, in one pocket. If those things aren’t on me, that’s where they are. My phone, Kindle, glasses, sunglasses, coffee sachets, Nuun, toothbrush, in a different pocket, with my spork. My satellite phone hangs from the ceiling. Cup, plate, water bottles, pee bottle, charging chords, beside my sleeping bag. Down coats, trousers near the top of the sleeping bag – easy to use to prop yourself up when resting in the tent. My food – snacks- are buried outside in a trash bag. Stops them melting. Crampons and ice axe are beside my walking pole outside – the pole will be the marker if they get buried. My boots, and backpack stay in the vestibule at the front of the tent.

The rest of the day was walking, reading, podcasts, chatting, and enjoying the views. Everyday it’s different as the winds and the clouds give us different aspects of Foraker, and Hunter, and then a smaller replica of Hunter far beyond it called Mt Thunder. And the clouds, incredible, and were looking down on them. Thankfully we have this amazing view to gaze at, as we could be snowed in, or in a whiteout, or just surrounded by grey low level clouds. Having the view, the blue sky and looking down at the clouds is kinda weird, as one hand the views and visibility are great, but we are not moving. It feels like we should be! You literally have to remind yourself that it’s the wind up at 17,000 and above that is the issue.

The team morale is good. Generally everyone is pretty sound and staying sane, interesting and friendly. So it’s easy to get on with people. No complaining, no tensions, albeit some annoyances!!!

As I mentioned yesterday a team from AMS did leave and headed to 17,000. Dominic doesn’t like the weather so no move. At dinner he shared that maybe a window will open on Tuesday, but there’s a better chance on Wednesday. He has some weather experts back in Seattle, and a guy in Pennsylvania that he trusts. In addition, there are regular updates from the Park Rangers, and there is a team stationed her at 14,000. We have until Sunday, that’s when our permit expires. I really hope we don’t wait that long!

After looking at Motorcycle hill for a couple of days, and being intimidated by it, today we get to try it.

Today we moved food for our summit attempt to 16,200ft. We brought 3 days of food, that was snacks, 3 dehydrated dinners and breakfasts. This would be all we needed when we’d try for the summit. We would not come back up unless, or until, there was a 3 day weather window to attempt to summit. RMI has a (permanent) cache at 17,000 ft, with more food, tents and cooking gear. This would minimize our overall carry to 17,000. We travelled about 2 miles total – doesn’t seem that far- but went 2,000ft up and down. So, yes it was, steep. Literally straight up!

We headed out at 8:30am. It was cold, about 15F. Surprisingly we were the only team looking to head out. We are surprised in general, that so many teams wait and walk in the heat of the day, where the temps are high, and the snow is slushy.

We had about 1,200ft of steep up hill, until we met the bergschund, and we transitioned to fixed lines. On the steep uphill section it’s important to kick in with your crampons to ensure a good fitting, one foot, rest, kick with the other foot, rest, and on, and on. We took one break on the way to the fixed lines. The camp below was getting smaller, but the view was just getting better. As we approached the bergschund, Dominic dug out a shelf for us to rest. We would leave our walking poles here, as they are no help/a hindrance on the fixed lines on the fixed lines. Fixed lines are used where the slope is very steep, and extra assistance is needed. (We connect to a fixed rope (line) with an ascender, which provides an extra connection point to the mountain. The ascender slides on the rope, and can’t move backwards. However, you don’t (or are not supposed to) use the ascender to pull yourself up).

Crossing the bergschund – which in reality is a crevasse – was a manouver, not achieved on the first attempt, as one pulled oneself upward, and across this gaping slit in the ice, and then a large step up to engage the fixed line.

On the fixed lines we were climbing on blue ice. The blue ice is super hard, and takes a decent “kick” to engage the crampon. Amazing, but not always as assuring as packed snow. Communication on the fixed lines is important. The person ahead gives notice that he has reached a picket, or knot, and has to disengage from the fixed line, and re-attach above the picket. Moving on the fixed lines was less trying than on the earlier steep sections, as each step really moves you upward, and the rope does help!The views behind us back to camp, Mt Foraker, Mt Hunter, and the Kahiltna glacier were astonishing, but nothing compared to the views we had the luck to see when we reached the top of the lines, at the beginning of the West Buttress.

Steep falloff’s on both sides, with Mt Foraker, etc to the south, and the Peter glacier to our north. The vastness of the Alaska range is incredible, with mountains in all directions. What a privilege to see this. As we admired the views, and ate some snacks, Dom, Ben, and Mike buried the food and other stuff we brought up.

The descent was more taxing than the ascent. No ascenders on the descent!! Our connection to the fixed line is by wrapping the rope around your arm and descending slowly – with this massive 2,000 foot slope in front of you.

Another embarrassing attempt to cross the bergschund, pick up the hiking poles, and then the final 1,200 feet to camp.

So far the weather has been on our side, but it looks like that’s about to change. Winds are going to increase to over 30mph, which will make it too cold above 17,000ft, so we’ll have to sit and wait. Pity, as we were on record pace!