Aconcagua

If you think Aconcagua is a walk up then you're among the 70 percent. At 22,841 feet Aconcagua is the highest mountain outside of Asia. It is located in the Andes of Argentina, between the Malbec wine capital of Mendoza and Santiago, Chile. Aconcagua is one of the high points on the seven continents that includes Aconcagua, Denali, Kilimanjaro, Everest, Elbrus, Carstensz Pyramid and Vinson. 

I guided Aconcagua three times for Alpine Ascents International in 2005 and 2006. This winter Garrett at AAI offered me a private with JP Bailey, a Canadian living in  Manhattan. From previous trips I'd grown to appreciate the quality AAI offers when guiding the Seven Summits. On Aconcagua, AAI's recipe for success was developed by mountain legend Willie Prittie (imagine a high altitude version of Willie Nelson). Following Willie's recipe, and if the clients are healthy and strong, clients will get to Aconcagua's summit. Without Willie's recipe you'll probably join the 70 percent who don't summit. For comparison, Denali has a 46 percent no-summit rate.

I tore myself from the Alaska Wonderland and spent three sweaty and sleepless days in Mendoza preparing food for our 21-day trip. I packed the food and gear into mule loads, each able to withstand three days of mule treatment, which is equal to a turbo-charged paint shaker.

JP and I got to know each other over steak and Malbec at Francis Mallmann in Mendoza. The next morning we drove two hours to Penitentes, a 70's-era ski resort at 8,500-feet between Mendoza and Santiago, and unloaded our stuff at Grajales, our outfitter for the trip. Here's Pollo of Grajales weighing our loads. 

Then JP and I started the three-day trek into base camp. JP retired several years ago and spends his time travelling the world. Brazil is his favorite. 

We hiked with light backpacks in the sun. Easy walking through a Tibeten landscape. The movie Seven Years in Tibet was filmed near here. 

 

While we strolled, the mules and arrieros worked. 

It's a tough life for beasts of burden. The trail was lined with bones. It appears that Andean Condors don't like mule muzzle. 

The most unique part of the journey is hanging with the arrieros (mule drivers). These guys are real cowboys, with spurs and knives crammed into the back of their pants. Here we're sharing Argentina's legendary asado (barbecue) with arrieros at Casa de Piedra.  

Vegetation on the approach is covered with spikes. These pretty flowers have glass needles instead of spikes. 

After the approach JP and I spent three days at Plaza Argentina, the base camp at 13,800 feet. JP is explaining to Annita, the Grajales manager at Plaza Argentina, that she is beautiful, doing an incredible job, and that we'd like to further our five-day steak-eating streak. 

  

Bring your shoes! Base camp has bouldering.  

 

The Buff is Aconcagua's ubiquitous gear. By recycling breath moisture through the fabric it is possible to avoid turning your throat into 80-grit sandpaper from pressure breathing the dry, dusty air.  

 

Camp II at 17,700 feet at Ameghino Col. Success on Aconcagua is achieved by going slow, balls slow. We used the basic altitude recipe of climb high, sleep low and ascending 1,000 feet per day with a rest every three days. This means using the daily progression of carry a load, move camp, carry, rest, repeat. AAI uses two extra camps to achieve this progression. 

Acclimatizing is about patience. Movies and books help. JP educated me on essential guy movies. On his Ipad we watched The Lord of War, Seven, Troy, Connair, Black Hawk Down and Blow. I also read The Lost City of Z, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell and No Angle. 

Camp III at 19,200 feet with Cerro Ameghino and Aconcagua's shadow beyond. Each guyline is rocked down to withstand over 100 pounds of wind force. Due to logistics and weather we made this our high camp instead of the traditional AAI Camp IV at 20,600-feet. Summiting from Camp III made summit day long. 

To the summit! Behind JP is the Polish Traverse that we just spent four hours climbing. Above this point we climbed at the rate of three breaths per step for 2,500 feet. 

 

Summit! Yeah! Party like you're running with a sock in your mouth!

Descending at 21,500 feet at 7:30 pm. The route follows this trail to the Canteleta (couloir) that ascends 1,000 feet to the summit. 

Looks more Fried than Chili out there.  

The morning after summiting we packed up and crossed to the Plaza de Mulas base camp on the Normal Route, passing a mule that had a bad day at 19,000 feet. 

 

JP descending to the city of Plaza de Mulas. 

We could have stayed at Grajales in Plaza de Mulas and walked 16 miles out to the highway the next day. But we needed a shower and a bed ASAP.

Thanks for an awesome trip JP! I really enjoyed hanging with you. Good luck on your Seven Summits bid! 

Cheers!

Weekend Warrior

Last weekend was serious fun. Probably the most fun in the history of all weekends. Weekends are like organized events, but with no entrance fee. And the winner is the one who has the most fun. Clear skies and stable powder over last weekend made the competition huge, but I still won. 

Weekend material near Anchorage-Turnagain Pass. 

Good weekends depend on good people. Cathy, Jeff Conaway (our neighbor) and I went to Turnagain last Saturday. We found sun, an inversion for warm +10-degree F temps and off the hook skiing. 

 

Cathy on our first run from Magnum. Jeff calls this run TC. I've never had a TV so Jeff was educating me about the Magnum PI cast. 

Second run, into Goldpan, or is this Superbowl? Sorry Viking...

Jeff a body length ahead of his sluff. Ski fast or get out of the way. 

Across the way another posse of amigos was having a good time. Here's Jeremy Wood taste-testing snow quality. 

We confirmed there is no better place on the planet. 

The next day Cathy and I skied with Paddy Sullivan. He's still riding the granola sticks but that's okay. Anyone who can rip 2,000 vert non-stop on smelly teles is a noble man. It's now also okay, after this day of touring up Spokane Creek and down Bertha Creek, that Paddy swiped our Spanish tenant. Awesome skiing with you Paddy!

"Don't feel any pressure Paddy, but do you mind skiing right now? The light has 20 seconds left! Now! No pressure, but right NOW!" Thanks Paddy!

Now I'm in Mendoza, Argentina hanging in the Alpine Ascents guide apartment with this guy. Dave and I worked together in the Cascades in 2006. He enjoys Turbo Truffles and baristas. Tomorrow I leave for Aconcagua for three weeks with JP from New York. Tonight JP and I drank malbec at Francis Mallmann and agreed that Sarah Palin is...well, anyway, JP and I will have a good trip. 

Come spring I'll be back in the weekend contest. Watch out. 

Wolverine Creek

Turnagain is like a Grimms' Fairy Tale about a mystical paradise for backcountry skiers. Where the trees hang heavy with a winter coat of snow and the mountain sides are draped with fat powder. The locals frolic across this land. They laugh and smile and know there is no better place on the planet. 

That's what Turnagain has reminded me over the past few days. 

Jeff Conaway, Peter Thurston and I headed back Wolverine Creek to visit a new part of this mystical land. We skinned with our eyes up, looking at the mountains that hung in a soft haze of ice crystals, like a 100-year old painting. Wolverine Creek is one of eight main drainages on the non-motorized side of Turnagain Pass.  

At the head of the valley we skied lower angle slopes to keep the roaring sluffs at a manageable level. 

Peter lived in Girdwood back in the day. Now he lives in Salt Lake City, where the snow isn't happening. He came up for a month of Alaska's finest product.  

 

The next day I returned with my wife Cathy, Gretchen and Ben. Gretchen and Ben just returned from a semester down south expanding their brains. They were sooooo glad to be home. 

Ben's PhD had taken him to Juneau. He skied Eagle Crest ski area during breaks from the confuser. Back home he skis between glide cracks on the south side of Eddies.  

We finished the day with a 2,000-foot chute on the north slopes of Eddies. Since there was no light in the chute I took photos of the alpenglow on this thing. Yeah this thing. This thing is starting to bug me. 

Then I spent a day with Kevan Dee on a Tincan grand tour. Kevan grew up on a farm in northeast Colorado. Now he sells drill bits on the Slope, three weeks on, three weeks off. Kevan knows that AK rules!

Kevan on the summit of Tincan, ready to leave the light and drop into Todd's Run. Kevan saw the light in this Grimms' fairytale land and never wants to leave. I hope you don't Kevan. That was a blast! 

Late Summer Jaunts

I spent the late summer in Anchorage working on a guidebook and building a greenhouse...living the good life, playing in our backyard. 

 

One lazy morning Cathy and I left Hiland Road hiking toward Girdwood over the Flute Glacier. It was supposed to be a day hike. It became an 8,000-foot, 28-mile day hike--a bit long for a lazy morning. Our hitching home plans backfired when darkness and rain caught us. It was a fun night of snuggling under a pack cover at the Crow Pass cabin. For breakfast we hiked out to the Girdwood Tesoro for Bahama Momma hot dogs. 

To retrieve the Rice Burner a few days later, Cathy and I did an evening run from Arctic Valley over to Hiland Road.  

Did you know that Portage has the thickest shrubbery in Southcentral? I confirmed this on a very sweaty thrash to the ridgeline for a traverse from the first Portage tunnel, over Begich Peak, along the ridge and down to the Portage cutoff. The trip highlight came afterward, when I learned that 64-ounce sodas were only $1.89 at the Girdwood Tesoro. I'm growing quite fond of the Girdwood Tesoro. 

Indianhouse is the steepest summit in the Chugach Front. An interest of mine was traversing the Falls Creek ridgeline, which includes Indianhouse. Here's Tobey, Maddog, Cortney, Sarah and Heidi's Kid Brother on the summit after traversing a portion of that ridgeline from South Suicide. Like Billy Finley, we rappelled the two gendarmes, but Tobey found exposed sheep trails around both gendarmes. 

Jeff Conaway showed Cathy and I Sheep Creek in the Talkeetna Mountains. After a float plane drop off at an alpine lake we hiked down to the river. Here's Cathy inflating her packraft for six hours of floating back to the cars. 

My sister Kate, her friend Kim Keller and Cathy paddling through bergs on Spencer Lake to float the Placer River. This is the ultimate visitor trip combining a train ride, hiking, camping, rock climbing and a float with icebergs. 

"I got this hole on the Kenai. Lot's of fish. We'll go down after work and kill them." Andy Newton told Cathy, Raena and me. But all I caught was a big-lipped sucker fish and a sore bum from all the driving. Good thing we always have fun with Andy and Raena. 

Joe Butler and Ryan Davis ice climbing on the Byron Glacier. 

Local avalanche and mountain guru Kevin Wright climbing Wisdom (5.9) on the Wedge above Anchorage. Kevin showed Cathy and me that Anchorage does have good rock. Thanks for an incredible weekend Kevin!

Eric Parsons tests his bike bags on the Hillside Trails. 

Cathy on the best evening run in Anchorage: the Wedge Sheep trail. 

"Hey guys! Check out all these sweeeeet mountains. Guys? Hey, where'd everybody go?" Dave Bass at the 1957 wreckage of a B-29 Superfortress in the Talkeetna Mountains. Dave and I were midway through a 15-hour stumble-fest that went here and there, over Lynx Peak and back over there. The full day was a strange combination of verging on being crushed by a 50-ton boulder and giggling like teenagers. 

Cathy near the summit of Matanuska Peak on her favorite excursion of our Anchorage summer. We followed the not-so-normal ridgeline from Lazy Mountain to Mat Peak. Near the top we found some steep granite to scramble. The wiffy likes steep granite.  

Dana Maddog Drummond on a 15-hour, 12,000-foot, 27-mile variation of the Thunderbird Traverse. The T-Bird Traverse is any tundra ridge hike that includes Thunderbird Peak in the Western Chugach. Our variation started at Peters Creek and finished at Eklutna. 

Cortney Kitchen on Knoya Point above Anchorage in mid October. Tordrillos out there. 

Alaska paddling strong man Paul Shauer in Bird Creek. Luc Mehl waiting in line. This excursion enhanced my understanding that water is best when frozen. 

 

Are you impressed? You should be! This thing took me a lot of evenings and some weekends. I'm lucky Dad helped me for five days, otherwise I'd still be out there flailing away. Most of the windows are recycled from the Samoan church down the street. Newton hooked me up with the door. I poached the design from Judy across the alley. 

 

In late September I attended the AMGA annual meeting at the Gunks in New York. Cathy met me afterward for some climbing. Here is Cathy on overhanging 5.6+++ jugs on the ultra-classic route High Exposure. Our favorite day at the Gunks was cragging with Markus Jolliff from Joshua Tree who also came for the guide meeting. Great getting to know you Markus!

After cragging we visited Flanagans. There are lots of Flanagans. Here are a few. Cathy with her parents Peg and Mike Flanagan during a rowdy 18 holes at the par three in Rehobeth Beach, Delaware. After touring around the East Coast for several weeks I found the East's finest attribute are Flanagans.  

Back in Anchorage it's stacking up on Airport Heights! 

And it's stacking up in the hills. Jeff Ellis skiing Eddies shrubbery at Turnagain Pass. You know Jeff is Canadian because he's wearing a toque.