Denali Dreams

Fly on the wings of hope.

As I type these words on my flight to Alaska, there is an acute sense that the moment of truth is near.  After months of training and self-denial, after learning from scratch what it takes to survive the bitter cold and harsh weather, after interruptions big and small which only reinforced my will, after a dry-run in the oft-wet Cascades where I learned the ropes literally and figuratively, after juggling work and training in the days leading up to this flight, the moment of truth is near.  We will soon find out if all of this is enough for me to get a view of the world from the summit of Denali.

I started thinking about Denali as soon as I climbed down Mt. Kilimanjaro.  However, I first wanted to go to Ladakh in 2011.  That did not come to pass.  I checked off another item on my bucket list by doing a bike ride across Iowa (RAGBRAI 2011).  I hope to write about that experience one day.

Denali is a completely different proposition from Kilimanjaro and Everest Base Camp.  Firstly, it is a longish expedition lasting 21 days.  Secondly, there are no porters: you have to lug your own gear in a backpack weighing 60 or 70 pounds, while pulling food, fuel, and common equipment like tents, shovels and spades weighing 80-100 pounds on a sled.  Climbers are flown to the base camp on the Kahiltna glacier in ski planes, and live with the hazards of crevasses and steep icy slopes,  and ridge walks with potentially dangerous winds, throughout the expedition.  The weather varies from a positively hot  80-90º F in the lower altitudes when the sun’s out, to a mind-boggling -40º F  with howling winds closer to the summit.   The altitude of Denali is 20,320 ft, but the oxygen level at the summit is 42% of that at sea level, because of the high latitude of 63º,  where as a mountain of the same height near the equator would have about 47% of the oxygen at sea level.  This is because the troposphere is thinner closer to the poles and thicker at the equator.

I had heard about Denali expeditions led by the American Alpine Institute.  The famed Adventure Consultants of New Zealand partner with AAI on Denali expeditions.   Since I knew next to nothing about what it takes to climb Denali, I decided to go with the best in the business to improve my odds.  I visited their website and took the virtual tour of the Denali West Buttress expedition, which has video clips from each leg of the expedition.  As I watched the videos enraptured, I told myself: This is why I came to America.

I went over my previous experience with Andrew Yasso, the coordinator of Denali expeditions at AAI.  We talked about the commitment and the training and the equipment and the cost.  Andrew encouraged me to take the Pre-Denali Prep course that AAI offers on Mt. Baker in the Cascades in Washington State.  The window for Denali climbs is from early May to end of June.  Before May, it is too cold, and after June, with snow melting, the danger from crevasses is too high.  I decided on May 6 start, as I need to be back in time for my son’s June graduation. It was August, 2011 and I decided to get serious.

For training, I went back to the usual routine for me: weights, cycling, hiking and yoga.  This time, I added to hiking a backpack weighing about 35 lb initially, slowly increasing up to 60 lb or more.

To borrow from quotes about yoga and mash them up, training is mule work done repetitively with delight.  Start conservatively, watch how your body reacts to the weight and the length and the intensity of training; make adjustments, and repeat.  When you are comfortable with the weight, add some more.  Repeat.  Become aware of the limits of your body, and try to push them out little by little. 

Yoga is critical to my training process.  Firstly, this process itself borrows from how yoga is practiced: with awareness, patience and integrity.  Secondly, yoga practice is diagnostic in that whatever part of my body is beginning to get out of balance comes to the surface in one posture or another.  I can then try to use yoga more therapeutically. 

Months of training meant that I needed to stay committed, keeping it in my priorities, and hoping that people who are annoyed by the lack of my availability will come to understand, and denying myself small pleasures on a regular basis.  Many were the days when I wanted to get my politics fix watching Hard Ball with Chris Mathews, then channel surf until Diane Sawyer’s ABC News, and then watch Jeopardy delighting in yelling out the answers at the TV.  But no, I had to go to the gym or an evening yoga class. 

I walked on the hilliest roads I could find in Holmdel, and on the trails – especially my favorite little hill – in Holmdel Park with my weighted backpack.  Spending hours and hours in solitary walks, I would turn inwards and solve a problem, or make plans for the next day, month or year, or compose a letter.  Or reminisce about the past, about good times and bad times.  For a period I found myself asking dark questions about past relationships.  I have no difficulty dealing with adversaries, but it is an entirely different matter with people close to me.   Why do friends fall apart?  Why can’t brothers be more honest with each other? Why does gratitude enter the picture when none is expected, and then become an unbearable burden?  How did I, from time to time, come to accept things that go against my nature?

At first I tried to shove these questions aside and keep my focus on Denali.  But eventually I had to address them head on.  When I thought about them, with the clarity that the passage of time brings, I came to respect most of the people whose behavior I questioned at one time or the other:  Over the years, some of them did an amazing job of raising children, some exhibited tremendous persistence and dignity in the face of a sustained onslaught of adversity, and some of them surprised me with their selflessness at critical times.  And then, what of me – the judgmental me?  Had I not become consumed by work to the exclusion of everything including close family, put inordinate pressure on people around me to meet impossible deadlines, and trampled over those who resisted me?  I know the eventual price I paid, but what about the others?  When I made this observation to a dear friend, he reminded me that most of the individuals I was referring to have done very well,  owing at least in part to their experience on my projects.  At some point, it becomes hard to figure out what’s right and wrong about the past.  Things just are.  You have to learn your lessons and move on.  Certainly, for my part, I like to think that I have become better at keeping my sense of urgency without the need to chew up people around me.  It’s sort of like doing inner spiral and outer spiral at the same time in yoga! 

Training is one thing, but equipment for expeditions like Denali was something that was completely new to me.  I needed the right backpack, for if it fails on the mountain, that would be the end of my expedition.  Without the right boots, I might not come back with all my toes intact.  To deal with the wide range of temperature on Denali, I had to get several layers of clothes for the legs and upper body, different types of gloves and mittens, headgear and eyewear.  And a sleeping bag rated for -40º. 

The guys from AAI coached me patiently on all of these aspects, and did so without any expectation that I would buy my gear from their equipment shop.  Whenever I found a good price for an item that looked useful, they would tell me instantly the good and bad about the item.  I found a Mountain Hardwear -40 sleeping bag at 35% discount.  Buy. Mountain Hardwear BMG 105 backpack?  Buy.  A Mountain Hardwear down suit with the top and bottom integrated, at a huge discount? Stay away from it:  What will you do if you have to answer a nature call while climbing in bitter cold?  You need the jacket and pants to be separate.  OR Alti Mitts at 30% off? Buy.  And so on.

The first thing I had to get was my backpack.  As I kept increasing my load, it became apparent that I had to train with the backpack that I will actually use on the mountain.  The expedition backpacks have a frame that distributes weight to your hips, and exercises the back and hip muscles in a completely different way than a daypack with the same amount of weight.  For Christmas Eve, we had gone to spend the day at my niece’s house in Marlton, NJ.  I took the opportunity to go to the REI Store in Marlton and checked out the backpacks.  There I met the aptly named Alex Wildman. 

Alex was a guide with REI for climbs like Mt. Washington, and was planning to climb Denali himself.  He gave me a lot of information, endorsed my choice of the BMG 105, even though REI did not have it in stock, helped me decide the size of the backpack, and offered to get me set up with all the adjustments when I got it (and I did take him up on that).  Climbing in the Himalayas was on his bucket list, so I offered to introduce him to my contacts who organize expeditions there.  In short, I met a kindred spirit and a friend.

I was making good progress training with the backpack, and was up to 55 pounds.  With a little over three months left for Denali, I needed to get my boots soon in order to break them in.  I found Kayland 8001 boots on Amazon for an unbelievable price – about $350 when they usually sell for $800.  Jeremy from AAI gave me the go-ahead.  Before I could place the order, however, I got a 3 am phone call on February 9.

It was my brother.  My father had passed away 30 minutes ago.  After his long struggle, we all knew this was a relief for him.  We were expecting it to happen sooner or later.  Still, it hits you hard.  I got on the next available flight to India. 

I brought the BMG 105 as my carry-on, and threw in a jump rope.  During my two-week stay in India, through all the emotional rituals, I found a little time, at the crack of dawn almost every day, to load up my backpack with books and stuff and climb up and down the three flights of stairs in our house for an hour or so.  Jump rope for aerobic activity, and some introspective yoga kept me in a semblance of balance amidst the kriyas and poojas and the parade of friends and relatives and some heart-wrenching scenes. 

I was struck by the stories of how my father helped out various people in tight spots, and the repeated description of him as Ajatashatru – meaning one whose enemy has not been born.  It is not that there weren’t people who did him harm.  It is that even when he was hurt he didn’t begrudge them or nurture ill feelings towards them.  That was his nature.  I asked myself if it is so difficult for me to be more like him.  From an entirely different perspective, who is an enemy and who is a friend?

Back in the U.S., I resumed my training.  My yoga felt surprisingly different, and people noticed it.  I became more regular with weights.  I started with a lower weight in my backpack than before, but increased it more aggressively to ramp up to 65 lb. 

The Kayland 8001’s at Amazon were gone, but Jeremy from AAI gave me a few more good choices.  I got the Millet Everest boots, and it was love at first sight.  Now I was training with the right backpack and the right boots. 

Clothing is the hardest thing to get quickly in a place like New Jersey.  A lot of it is very specialized, and I had to get it online.  The trouble is if it doesn’t fit properly, you have to send it back and try something else, and this cycle takes at least a week.  AAI again came to the rescue.  I scheduled my Pre-Denali Prep course for April 8-13, and Andrew and Jeremy assured me that they could get me set up with all my gear if I went there a day or two early. 

I have just landed in Seattle for my connection to Anchorage, and as I type up the rest of this post during my 3-hour layover, I am reminded of my last visit to this part of the world almost a month ago. 

I had arrived in Seattle on April 6, and drove straight away to Bellingham, WA, which is 90 minutes north on I-5, and the headquarters of AAI.  Andrew, Jeremy and Jeff met and went over what I already had and what else I needed.  Of my needs, I got whatever I could at AAI, and for the rest I went to REI and Patagonia in Seattle.

For the low altitudes, you need a really thin base layer.  A silky, full-sleeve base layer shirt from Outdoor Research fit the bill for me.  For the higher altitudes, I will need a thicker base layer, but AAI didn’t have a suitable one for me and I didn’t need it for my training on Mt. Baker. For the second layer, AAI recommended a Patagonia R-1 shirt.  I absolutely love it.  It is so light and warm at the same time.  A soft shell jacket (Patagonia Guide), a puffy jacket (Outdoor Research), a hard shell jacket (REI) for stormy weather, and an expedition parka (Mountain Hardwear) for use at the camps and for the summit day comprise the gear for the upper body.

I already had a thin base layer long underwear, and got a thicker long underwear for use 14K ft and above.  A pair of soft shell or Shoeller pants from Mountain Hardwear,  hardshell pants from Marmot, and puffy compression pants from Mountain Hardwear take care of the lower body needs.

Expedition gloves from Black Diamond, expedition mittens from OR, fleece gloves from North Face and a pair of stretchy gloves from OR take care of the hands in the entire range of conditions expected on Denali.  I also throw in some hand warmers.  For the feet, liners of two different weights and a few pairs of warm socks – and Gold Bond powder!

A skull cap, a warm hat, a medium weight balaclava, a helmet and the hoods on various layers for the head. 

I decided to go with the Julbo glacier glasses I used for my second Kilimanjaro climb.  I couldn’t locate the stupid side blockers which are detachable, but we’ll see if I need to get another pair or what (in Anchorage).  Ski goggles with red mirror lenses are needed for use in white out conditions – I got Smith IO/S goggles. 

A harness for the rope line and to attach the prusik ropes and carabiners and tools.  Different ropes and loops.  A bunch of locking and nonlocking carabiners. 

Ski poles.  Crampons, snowshoes and ice axe I decided to rent from AAI.  They give an option to buy and apply your rental charges towards the purchase price.  I will decide after my Denali climb if I want to buy them for other expeditions.

Those are the major items in the Denali gear list.  One item conspicuous by its absence is a headlamp.  Daylight is expected almost around the clock so there is no need for a headlamp.  Except if you want to read in the tent at 3 am, a problem you are not likely to have because your tent mate will probably kill you if you try that.

After gathering my gear at the AAI equipment shop and at the REI flagship store and the Patagonia store in Seattle, we gathered very early on April 8 at AAI to meet my fellow-climber Philip and my guide Paul.  The first thing Paul told us was that the objective was not to climb Mt. Baker, but to learn the skills necessary to succeed on Denali.  The equipment check revealed gaps in both my gear and Phil’s, which we fixed right there at the AAI equipment shop.  We learned how to rig the backpack and the sled, and made a contraption to hitch the sled to the backpack.  We then made our way to the south side of Mt. Baker, a little more than an hour’s drive away.  It was past 2 pm.

As soon as I put on the snowshoes I hated them.  They change your gait as you have to walk with your feet wide apart.  In the beginning, you inevitably forget to do that every so often and end up crossing the snowshoes and losing balance.  At the end of the first day, my hips felt strange.  It took me almost until the end of the 6-day course to get comfortable with the snowshoes.

The very first step I took with the sled attached to my backpack made me go “Wow.”  It felt like some one was tugging at me hard from behind.  When I overcame that false sensation, I found myself pulling hard and going faster than my natural pace.  The sled makes a noise that is easy to mistake for someone walking close behind you.   I thought it was Phil and kept moving so as not to slow him down.  When I eventually turned around, Phil was quite far away, adjusting his snowshoes.

I started with three layers at the top – base layer, R-1 and soft shell jacket.  Paul politely asked if I wanted to take some layers off but I told him that I needed them.  Soon I learned how hot you can get while moving, and adjusted down to a single layer.  Whenever we stopped for a little break, we would quickly put on the soft shell to avoid getting cold.  Lesson No. 1:  While moving, you need to be more worried about overheating than getting cold. 

The place was teeming with snowmobiles.  They are loud, waste gas, and pollute the pristine atmosphere.  What a bunch of jerks, I thought. 

About 20 minutes after a stop to adjust our layers, a snowmobiler caught up with us and waved a water bottle at us.  That was mine!  The guy brought back to me my water bottle that I hadn’t even realized was lost.  One liter less water while moving can be a potential disaster.  So who’s the jerk now?!

Climbing with the backpack and the sled was really hard work.  We moved at the rate of a mile an hour.  After climbing for about 3 miles, we found a spot to set up camp.

Setting up camp is again hard work and can take a couple of hours -- to work harden the snow by stomping around the camp site as though crushing grapes, pitching the tents and digging out holes for boot boxes inside the vestibules of the tents,  carving out a center island and benches for the kitchen tent, and building protective snow walls around the tents.  Lesson No. 2:  Arrive at camp with some gas left over.

Our camp on Day 1.

Inside the kitchen tent.

We lit up the stove and melted snow for water.  Lesson No. 3.  Water = fuel on the mountain.  Never waste water.  After a nice hot Thai dinner from freeze-dried packets, we went to bed early. 

I slept really well but found my sleeping bag too warm.  I’ll probably have some issues with it at the lower altitudes of Denali.

We moved camp on Day 2 another three miles up, hoping that we can use the afternoon for learning ropes.  However, when we reached the camp site, we discovered that we had packed only three tent rods instead of four.  Paul skied back to the previous site, and thankfully found the missing rod.  He reminded us gently that there was very little margin for error on Denali.  On the high mountain, in stormy weather, the only thing standing between us and misery is that piece of nylon we call our tent.  Lesson No. 4:  Pay attention to details.

On Day 3 we learned our ropes and knots and hitches:  Figure 8 follow-through, double fisherman, prusik hitch, clove hitch, Muenter hitch, putting on the harness, attaching ropes and tools to the harness, and forming a rope line.  We then went on an excursion with the rope line, which is how we will be moving for 21 days on Denali.  On the way back from our climb, we learned how to control the sled that wants to run away.  That night, I dreamt that my father was watching me train.

Side angle stretch at the top of our climb on Day 3.

On Day 4 we stayed near the camp and learned crevasse rescue.  Self arrest as soon as you feel a tug when the person next to you falls into a crevasse; dig your boots into the snow for support; prepare an anchor using a snow picket and transfer the weight of your fellow climber to the anchor so that you can move around; check on your friend from the lip of the crevasse, set up a system of “pulleys” using carabiners to create a mechanical advantage and then haul your friend out of the crevasse. 

We also learned how to use the leg prusik and the waist prusik to pull ourselves out of a crevasse.  This is all hard work, and in a real situation we have to control our panic as well.  That’s why there is so much emphasis on avoiding falling into a crevasse in the first place.

On Day 5 we learned the use of ascenders on fixed ropes and the protocol for communicating while running balle´s up a fixed rope on an incline.  We then went for a really good climb to get some exercise and to learn the use of ice axe and French stepping different ways while climbing up.

We peppered Paul with all kinds of questions.  What happens if you are moving camp and there is a white out before you reach the next camp?  What if your guide who is at the head of the rope line falls into a crevasse?  We move camp on Denali over two days, caching your stuff close to the next camp and coming back down to sleep, and then breaking camp the next day to move the rest of the stuff up to the next camp.  What happens if we have bad weather and stuck at a camp after caching our stuff?  How will we avoid running out of food?  Paul answered as many questions as he could and finally said, “Honestly, there is no way to prepare for Denali.”  He should know: he led eight expeditions up the mountain and reached the summit 5 times, bad weather above the high camp (17 K ft) getting in the way the other three times. 

As we headed back down the mountain on the last day, I asked Paul about the hardest part of climbing Denali.  He said it was the sheer length of the expedition.  At some point, you can get tired of staying in the cold for so long and just want it to be over.  It is important to take it one day at a time and keep up the spirits.  I think Denali will afford me ample opportunities to practice pratyahara, the yogic principle of withdrawing the senses. 

Paul, Vijay and Phil, after the Pre-Denali Prep course.

Once back in New Jersey, with three weeks to go for Denali, I trained with a little less weight and tried to increase my speed.  I went on 40 – 50 mile long bicycle rides over the hilly roads of Holmdel.  This period saw a marked increase in my work pressure that took away time from training  At the same time, my seasonal allergies took a toll on me forcing me to cut back on my plans to go on a century bike ride.  I just don’t want to slow down the rest of my team.

The more people wished me well, the more the enormity of the undertaking began to dawn on me.  I received blessings and these words from Chinna Jeeyar Swamy:  “Enjoy the beauty of God in the form of snow and mountains.”

Closing words from my hotel room in Anchorage.

The time to worry is over.  We have our equipment check in a few hours and will make it to our Base Camp on Kahiltna glacier tomorrow. 

I would like my climb to benefit my favorite organization, Tumaini Children’s Foundation, near the base of Mt. Kilimanjaro.  Please support my cause and donate to Tumaini, even though it is a Canadian-registered nonprofit  and donations from other countries are not tax deductible. 

P.S.:  You can get dispatches from our climb here.  Note that I am on Denali Team #2 departing May 6.