The Story – I met Jon, Patrick, and Jason for the first time at Red Rock Rendezvous 2008. Since both […]

Since last September I have been working as a wilderness instructor at Thistledew Camp in northern Minnesota. Before I signed up for this job, I was not aware that their winter could be this brutal; for my last couple courses there, single digit in day time was common and forty and fifty below at night time was not unheard of. Since one of the main elements of the program is a therapeutic process to guide adjudicated youth toward self-recognition and self-confidence, a campfire is always necessary not only for cooking but also to encourage teens to engage in discussion.

Once we reach our campsite, before we set up our tents, we have to gather dead trees and saw them into burnable pieces. Sometimes when a piece is too thick, as an instructor equipped with an axe, I am responsible of splitting it into halves or even quarters. I was raised in Taipei and reside in Philly; even though I never call myself a city girl, splitting wood is certainly not my expertise. I remember I looked at the axe in my hand and the log in front of me, “this can’t be too hard.” I lifted my axe and “boom” the log laid on the ground intact like a sleeping beauty. I do not recall how many tries to get through the first piece. I only remember I got attached to the new challenge and woke up next morning with a sore lower back.

In late August 2007, Andrea Deaton and I were leading an AMC (Appalachian Mountain Club) major excursion in Yosemite National Park. We were hiking and backpacking, nothing technical; however, I couldn’t resist checking out every single granite face we encountered. My long time climbing partner Yaroslav and I had started actively preparing for a Yosemite climbing trip in October and being a rock climber in the States, I know this simple fact-—Yosemite is the place to go.

I bought a rock climbing guidebook featuring climbs in Yosemite Valley and I studied it every night in the tent after each participant finished their dinner and got ready for bed. I remember I asked myself a question repeatedly “How come there aren’t many routes rated 5.7 and below?” I could follow up to 5.9+ or maybe 5.10a but I had a strong desire to lead and leading is a totally different story than following. In Wyoming, I had learned the theory of traditional leading, built many anchors and placed many pros; however, I did not lead even though I mock led two 5.7’s. I needed some real experience to be ready especially mentally; I could not afford carrying any moment of doubt when I stepped in the boundary of Yosemite again in another two months.

I started my quest to do trad-leads (traditional leading) in September. Not only did I want to boost my confidence, but I needed to familiarize with Yaroslav’s style in an outdoor setting. Ever since then I kept a climbing log for all my outdoor climbs, which is a suggestion I took from my instructor Jared Spaulding, and therefore I can monitor my climbing progress or simply indulge in my adventures.

After the strenuous but memorable Denali climb, all my efforts were redirected to fulfill my bottomless appetite. It was a weird feeling: No matter how much I ate, I constantly felt hungry. The only thing that stopped me from reaching for more food was always embarrassment not satisfaction. In about two weeks, my metabolism finally returned normal and I was ready for another NOLS course: a 3-week backcountry rock climbing course.

Before I signed up for the course, I had a long debate with myself. I had some experience climbing real rocks and I had followed some multi-pitch routes. However I never had any systematic or extensive training on this topic. In addition, I wanted to know how to do traditional leading otherwise how could I become an all-around mountaineer? I knew I probably could obtain such knowledge from experienced climbing friends, but nothing beats a structural course—I just couldn’t wait to flip to a new page of my climbing book.

Rock climbing is a necessary endeavor for mountaineering, at least that is what I believe, and that was why I started to rock climb a couple years ago. During the occasions I have spent on rocks, I have gradually discovered the charm of the sport itself; however, to me, there had been something missing. I did not know what the missing component was, but I knew I needed it to extract the buried determination to become a better climber. The Grand climb terminated the long search and provided the last piece of the puzzle.

I arrived at Jackson Wyoming around noon on August 25, 2007, less than a week apart from my last field trip: a ten-day AMC major excursion in Yosemite. The weather was touchingly pleasant, especially when I compared it to the torturing hot and dry Sierra climate. If not because of the skyrocketing real estate market and flooding tourists wandering on the streets, Jackson is almost a paradise.

I walked in the Jackson Hole Mountain Guides (JHMG) office for a gear check. All I had in my backpack was my personal clothes, toiletries, snack food, water, and a headlamp; and this backpack was all I had to carry during the climb. The sleeping gear and climbing gear were waiting for us at 11,000 feet, where the Corbet High Camp lies below the Eastern face of the Grand and the Teepe Glacier. A light backpack!? Breakfasts and dinners would be prepared by the guides!? I felt like I were a nobleperson. “This climb is gonna be easy,” I thought, which was soon proved to not exactly be the case.

On May 31, 2007, I arrived at Anchorage Alaska. This was my second time in Anchorage; streets, shops, even pedestrians looked familiar. The objective of visiting was still the same as that of last year: mountaineering. However, this time I was going to climb Denali, the highest peak of North America. It is significant, and it is significant not only to me but also to many people who care about me and my outdoor pursuit.

Last summer, I took a NOLS Alaska mountaineering course in Chugach Range; we could see Denali if the conditions cooperated. Denali has this unexplainable attraction: when I look at it, I can’t help but wonder what it is like to stand on top of it. Especially during the course, I learned how pristine Alaskan glaciers are; how satisfactory glacier travel is. My instructor, Shawn Benjamin, told me, “NOLS has an alumni course to climb Denali,” and she understood that I loved to position myself in a less crowded environment, “we climb from the Muldrow glacier instead of the popular West Buttress route. It is possible you will not see any other groups.”

I did not apply for the course right away after I got back to civilization in mid August last year. I remember when I called my older brother, who used to be an active backpacker and rock climber, saying that “brother, I am going to climb Denali in June, 2007,” he replied me, after a long pause, “can’t you climb something easier first?” That was exactly my concern: I didn’t have much mountaineering experience. In addition, the course was expensive: including the airfare, it would cost me about eight thousand dollars.

After debating for months I finally called NOLS in November and was put on the waiting list. I then had to fill out this lengthy questionnaire, detailing my experience (preferably on extended trips, which should be at least 10 days) on glacier travel, crevasse rescue, winter camping, high altitude travel and of course my physical strength. While I thought my registration would be turned down, I received the acceptance letter in January. I was on; there was no turning back.

Date: 07/05/2007 Hello, Here is the final one. The instructor team and I had a great four-hour discussion yesterday. We

Date: 06/29/2007 Greetings, As expected, it has been a quick trip down the hill for the NOLS Denali expedition. The

Date: 06/27/2007

Hello,

We just got a satellite phone call from high camp (17,000′).

Eight students (Geoff, Geno, Jon, Naomi, Mark, John, Dan and Lane) reached the summit yesterday afternoon with instructors Erica and Ben! Patrick turned back at 19,400′ with Szu-ting and Robby who were both slowed significantly by the altitude. Erica said both of them agreed it was a good decision and that they were healthy and in good spirits. She said the weather was beautifully clear, but cold: “-15 degrees F with mild to moderate winds.” With weather like that, the view was probably a couple of hundred miles. You can see Denali from Anchorage on a clear day. They said they had the summit to themselves, which is unusual. Often there are folks from the more popular West Buttress route going for the summit as well. Ben broke trail up the summit ridge to 20,320′–the highest point in North America.

Date: 06/23/2007

Greetings,

We heard from the Denali expedition. On the evening of 6/21, they reached Browne’s Tower at 14,000′. Thus, they have climbed what is probably technically most difficult part–Karsten’s Ridge. Though now the altitude will play a larger role.

Yesterday was a rest day. Today, given decent weather they may be ferrying loads to high camp at approximately 17,000′ on the Harper Glacier. Then tomorrow they could move to that high camp. Often courses take a rest day before attempting to go for the top. Much depends on the weather now. It was a brief exchange, but one thing they said was, “All students and instructor are doing well–strong and healthy.” They said they had a week of good weather (for Denali). They plan call again around 6/28.